Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After
by Jitterbug1
Summary: Sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate. Draco discovers what life is like when you're seventeen and dating the Boy Who Lived. H/D slash.
1. Start of Summer

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I recommend that you read before starting this. This is a Harry/Draco story.

Warnings for this chapter: There's a swear word or two in here.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

Little Whining was an odd place. All the houses were painfully identical, with their perfectly manicured lawns and bland brickwork. Draco felt his neck itch with the wrongness of it all. This little slice of middle class muggle suburbia was not for him and Vernon Dursley, who was squinting at him suspiciously with narrowed eyes in the review mirror, knew it.

Harry was quiet as they turned onto Privet Drive, his eyes almost vacant as he stared out the window. As soon as the car pulled into the driveway, Draco hopped out as quickly as possible and gathered his things, trudging along after Dursley into #4. The house was even more bland than its neighbors if that was even possible, a monument to conformity that made Draco's lip curl with a sneer. "Don't dawdle! Get inside, hurry." Dursley admonished them, peering around as if at any moment the neighbors would pop out of the bushes to denounce the two boys as freaks. Draco was ushered into the house quickly along with Harry who had a sort of resigned expression on his face. 

"So, this is a muggle house is it?" Draco asked, craning his neck to get a good look around. There were lots of doodads and thingamabobs, many of which Draco could not discern a purpose for. Pictures of a porky boy were hung all over the house. It was enough to turn one's stomach. "Who's the whale?"

Dursley whirled around and Harry stifled a snicker with his sleeve. "_That_ is my son Dudley. He's not fat, he's muscular!" Draco didn't even bother to reply to that glaring falsehood. If Dursley wanted to delude himself the Slytherin certainly wasn't going to interfere. "And you better not pull any funny business around him if you know what's good for you."

"I'll do whatever I damn well please." Draco drawled, dropping his bags in the foyer. "And unless you want to end up transfigured into a walrus I would advise against telling me what to do."

"Ha! You can't fool _me_, boy! I know you can't do any of that - that weird stuff over the summer, so don't even try it!" 

Draco smirked, ignoring Harry's groan. The Gryffindor, at least, understood that fact that one never challenged a Malfoy unless they were prepared for the consequences. "Really? _Wingardium Leviosa_!"  


"Uh - ah - oh! Help! Petunia!" The overweight muggle kicked his feet helplessly as he rose in the air. Draco floated him upwards, his wand clasped loosely in his aristocratic hand directing Harry's uncle even higher. "Petunia!" Dursley bellowed, his face flushing red with shame and anger.

Harry laughed despite himself. The Gryffindor laughed so hard in fact he had to double over and fold his arms over his stomach. "Vernon!" Cried a strident voice and then a woman with a neck that was far too long for her body scurried over. "What's going on here?!"

"_Finite Incantatum_." Dursley hit the ground with a solid thump. "Nothing at all. I was just demonstrating to your husband that while Harry can't do magic over the summer, I can." Petunia Dursley paled and helped her spluttering husband to his feet. 

"You think that's funny do you? You could've broken his back!" She said shrilly, clutching Vernon as if he could protect her from their newest house guest. The Slytherin shifted his grip on his wand and both muggles flinched.

"If he'd gotten hurt I could have healed it." Draco said complacently. After all, he'd seen Quidditch players fall off their brooms from more than twenty feet in the air and walk right off the pitch with nary a limp. A few feet were nothing in comparison. He turned with arrogant poise, ignoring the two muggles with ease. "Where's your room, Harry?"  


Harry blinked for a moment, but replied quickly enough. He was obviously eager to remove himself from his aunt and uncle's presence. "Upstairs. Down the hall, the farthest room on the right." 

"Let's get settled in then, shall we?" Another Levitation charm on their trunks and they were on their way, thumping up the stairs and leaving Vernon and Petunia to stare after them in dismay. It was, Draco decided, a very small house indeed. He was used to rooms with cathedral ceilings and sprawling architecture that stretched out so far you could walk until your legs ached and still not have reached the exit. Harry's room was cramped, but Draco supposed one could call it cozy if they were so inclined. 

The Slytherin set their things in a corner and paused to take in the room. Yes, it was tiny and somewhat messy, but it also had Harry's personality stamped all over it. There was a Gryffindor banner from a Quidditch match pinned on the wall as well as a poster of Oliver Wood. The furniture was worn, but serviceable and the bed was pushed up against the wall so that whoever slept in it would be protected from two of the four sides. There was an iron lattice on the window, though it had a clasp to open it, but there were signs that at one time it had been barred shut. 

"So, this is the great Harry Potter's room." Draco mused, absently kicking the door shut behind them. "Leave it to those muggles to give you the smallest room in the house." He said with a scowl, tossing himself on the bed and sprawling out comfortably as if it was his own. Harry began unpacking and looked over his shoulder briefly to reply.

"It's better than the cupboard under the stairs at least. Ten years in there is enough for anyone, really. I'm rather happy with Dudley's second bedroom, actually. There aren't any spiders in here."  


"A cupboard? _Spiders_?" Draco sat up, aghast. "They put the Boy Who Lived in a _cupboard_? Those savages! How could they do that?! You're - you're the darling of the wizarding world! How dare they treat you like some misbehaving house elf?" Two years ago Draco would have been delighted to learn about Harry's awful childhood, but now he was merely indignant, angry, and sickened at the thought Harry had been so mistreated by his own family. 

"I don't know. But they did. Don't worry too much about it. I'm not in there anymore, am I?"

"Well, no. But now I'm sorry I just didn't hex them both off the bat." Draco sulked, wiggling around so he could perch his chin on his hands and watch Harry fill the drawers of his dresser with his carefully folded clothes. The Gryffindor methodically put his things away, tucking everything into it's place. He even went so far as to start on Draco's clothes, obviously aware of the fact the Slytherin usually depended on house elves to do such things for him. Or maybe he was just being nice, who knew? There was a comfortable silence between them, broken only be the sound of a passing car.

With a last scrape of a shutting drawer, Harry finished his appointed task and joined Draco on the bed, curling around him comfortably. The dark haired boy buried his face against Draco's neck and inhaled his scent. Harry's nose nudged his neck and he wrapped one arm over Draco's side and pulling him against his own body with a sigh. "Tired?" Draco asked, basking in the body warmth that poured off the Gryffindor as well as the affection.

"A little. How about you?"  


"I'm exhausted." Draco said theatrically, pressing his hand to his forehead and miming a faint. 

Harry snickered and his breath tickled Draco who squirmed for a moment before settling back down in the other boy's embrace. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Draco said playfully, leaning back against Harry's chest. 

"We should rest then." The dark haired boy said with a yawn. Draco intertwined his fingers with Harry's, their joined hands resting against his chest . With a sigh of contentment, he let himself drift to sleep. His lover's breath lulled him into pleasant dreams. 

Three hours later an ear shattering screech rent the air, sending Draco and Harry tumbling to the floor in a painful mesh of flailing limbs. "You two get down here for dinner!" 

"Oomph." Draco ended up with an elbow to the gut and he floundered briefly, nailing Harry in the balls with his knee. 

"Oh, fuck. Ouch." Harry grit out, his hand pressed firmly over his crotch. Draco was holding his gut, rubbing at what was sure to be a bruise come morning. "Oh god, that hurts." Harry blinked tears out of the corner of his eyes and Draco winced in sympathy. 

He searched around for his wand and cast a quick healing spell, patting the Gryffindor's crotch in an apologetic manner afterwards. "Alright there, Harry?"

"_Dinner_!" The shrill call came again.

"Alright. But you might want to stop petting me now or I'll have some trouble explaining why I'm so excited to Aunt Petunia." Harry said wryly, fixing his glasses which had gone askew during their tumble.

Draco snickered and removed his hand after a last stroke. "If I must."  


"C'mon." Harry said, pulling Draco to his feet. "We better get down there before Dudley eats our all food. It wouldn't be the first time either."  


They pounded down the stairs quickly, intent on joining the Dursleys in the kitchen. When they got there, Vernon glared at them and Petunia sniffed disdainfully. Dudley was shoveling food into his mouth, splattering bits of sauce and vegetable all over himself. Draco flicked a stray bit of broccoli away from his plate and took his seat, ignoring Dudley's loud belch. He glanced towards Harry who was attempting to steal the platter of steaks out from under Dudley's elbow to no avail. 

Draco had the feeling the next two weeks were going to go by very slowly.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	2. Two boys, one bedroom Do the math

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I recommend that you read before starting this. This is a Harry/Draco story. If you have any questions about the story or you just want to discuss something in it e-mail me. I'm always eager to hear what people think.

Warnings for this chapter: Language. Smut. 

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

That night found Draco and Harry settling in for bed, wriggling under the covers and attempting to get comfortable. The bed was small though, not really meant for two teenage boys and Draco kicked his bedmate when an elbow hit his shoulder. That started a brief tussle that ended with tangled coverlets and a fuming Slytherin. "Bastard."

"Blanket hog." Harry shot back, rolling over to face the wall. With a harrumph, Draco climbed back on the bed and laid down, pulling the blanket over his body again so that Harry was sandwiched between Draco and the wall. There was a moment of silence, punctuated by a door shutting down the hall. The house went dark, all the lights turned off as Petunia and Vernon retreated to their room. Dudley was spending the night at a friend's house, which guaranteed that there'd be breakfast the next morning. Dinner had been a fairly sparse affair and Draco was glad that the Bottomless Pit that was Harry's cousin would be gone for the next meal.

Draco sighed and wedged his feet under Harry's legs, wiggling his toes for a moment. "Do you mind?" Harry inquired with false politeness. "Your feet are bloody cold, Draco."

"And that's why you're warming them up for me at the moment." The Slytherin replied glibly, grinning to himself in the darkness.

"Prat." Harry said fondly.

"Git."

"Wanker."

"Only every other day." Draco replied and he snickered when the Gryffindor paused, taken aback.

"Alright, you win. I'm going to bed now."  


"Goodnight then."

"Goodnight."  


There was a long moment of silence and then Draco shuffled forward, pressing himself against Harry's back and shoving his cold nose against the back of the other boy's neck. There was an indignant snort, but no verbal protest.

Draco sighed, his breath ruffling the fine hair on Harry's neck. He shifted again, suddenly uncomfortable. He hated sleeping in new places, but #4 Privet Drive was so alien as to be completely discomfiting. How was he supposed to relax in a place that lacked magic? Hogwarts, Malfoy Manor, Diagon Alley… all of these places were seeped in history and had been frequented by generation after generation of Malfoys. He'd never spent a significant amount of time in such a strange place and the fact it lacked that distinct, but comforting tingle of magic in the air seemed to make all the difference.

He could feel it in Harry though, sparking under his skin and flowing through his veins. Most wizards could recognize other magical creatures and people - that's why those from wizarding families who were born unable to use magic were called squibs and not muggles. The scent of magic surrounded them, even if they themselves could not use it. Muggles on the other hand lacked it completely and instead relied on their technology to help them through life. Draco shivered briefly, even with the covers tucked tightly around him, and plastered himself to Harry's back.

_I'm not alone_, Draco reminded himself silently. _Harry's here to keep me company. _He could feel the distant hum of the wards surrounding Privet Drive, but the magic from it was merely overlaying the street, not actually a part of it. Harry, on the other hand, was always a powerhouse of magical energy, leaving minuscule traces of magic over everything he touched never mind the force of his personality or his charisma. The Gryffindor didn't even realize his magic was so potent, though anyone who had grown up in the wizarding world was able to. 

Only powerful wizards like Dumbledore tended to leak energy and the sheer amount Harry put out was probably unrivaled by any but Voldemort himself. Draco leaked a little, but nowhere near as much as Harry. It was why he'd deigned to talk to the Gryffindor at all the first time they'd met. Harry might have been dressed in huge hand-me downs that hung on his small frame and glasses that had been taped at the bridge, but a single glance had told Draco that this was not a boy to be overlooked or ignored. 

For all the good that did him.

He sighed again and nuzzled at the back of Harry's neck, glad they were no longer rivals or enemies. Being Harry's lover was much preferable to being his nemesis in Draco's opinion. Harry was bright and golden and everything a Gryffindor was supposed to be, but under that he was fiercely independent and ruthless when it came to doing what needed to be done. Most people couldn't make the two images match up, but Draco, who had been on the receiving side of some of Harry's hard, piercing glares, knew better. There was still a lot he didn't know about Harry, just like there was a lot about Draco that Harry didn't know either, but learning about each other was half the fun, really. 

Though to be honest, learning about how their bodies fit together was much more entertaining.

With that thought in mind, Draco pressed a soft kiss to Harry's neck and nudged his hips forward. He wasn't hard, not yet, but with the firm cheeks of Harry's arse tucked against his crotch it wouldn't take long. "Harry." He whispered, almost whined really.

"Go to sleep, Draco." The other boy muttered back, hunching his shoulders a little. Draco leaned forward and licked the shell of Harry's ear before nuzzling the soft skin behind his jaw. He rocked his hips against Harry's bottom gently, his half hard cock nudging insistently at the toned, cotton pajama clad arse. "Knock it off. We can't - do that. Not here. What if someone hears?"

"They're asleep." Draco replied thickly around his mouthful of shoulder, too busy sucking lightly at the salty skin and swirling his tongue over it to pay much attention to his own words. The moonlight streaming through the window cast long shadows across the floor and wall, adding a touch of mystery to an otherwise dull setting. Their owls were propped up on the dresser, heads tucked beneath their wings and obviously unconcerned about the activities of their humans. He trailed, hot, wet open-mouthed kisses along Harry's shoulders, peeling back his nightshirt to reach more of that tasty skin. "They won't even suspect." Draco mumbled, nipping at the other boy's neck.  


"Aunt Petunia's a really light sleeper." Draco ignored the almost agitated tone of voice and continued rubbing himself against Harry, rocking leisurely. Harry's breath caught and Draco smirked, pressing is face against the slightly damp skin of Harry's right shoulder.

"I can always cast a silencing charm."

"Draco, don't."  


"Why?" The Slytherin asked as he stopped with an irritated sigh. Harry turned around to face him, his handsome face set in a serious and slightly nervous expression. He didn't have his glasses on and once again the rich green of his eyes took Draco's breath away. Draco ghosted his fingers along Harry's jaw and down his throat, undoing the first button he reached. Harry swatted the hand away. 

"It's just… weird is all. They're right across the hall, Draco and Dudley's in the room next to us. What if they hear us?" 

"They won't. That's what a silencing charm's for." He swung his legs around and slid out of bed, stubbing his toe against his trunk as he searched for his wand. "Fuck!" He hopped around, clutched his hurt toe and manfully ignoring Harry's snickers. Finally he located it and cast the damn spell, tossing his wand on Harry's desk and hopping back into bed as quickly as possible. "Alright?" He asked with a smarmy grin.   


"You can't be serious. I still can't - Draco, they're _right _across the hall!"

"Don't be ridiculous." The Slytherin protested, already unbuttoning his night shirt. 

Harry sighed, rolling over and ducking his head under the covers. "I'm going to sleep." Came his muffled voice and Draco shrugged out of his silk pajama top, realizing that sometimes dating a Gryffindor wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Stupid morals. Who needed them anyway?  


Draco kicked off his pajama bottoms and cupped his erection, squeezing it lightly as he stared at the ceiling and the shadows that played across it. Goosebumps prickled his skin, but a few good strokes and he wasn't worried about the room temperature anymore. He pumped himself rapidly, hoping to just get off as quickly as possible so he too could go to sleep. 

The room was so quiet that his breath and the slick sounds of his hand stroking his erection were excruciatingly conspicuous. Harry poked his head out from under the duvet suspiciously. "Draco, are you doing what I think you're doing?"

"I don't know, depends on what," he paused to groan, "you think I'm doing." Draco said, swiping his thumb over the head of his cock. Harry sat up, taking in the sight of Draco sprawled next to him, nude and masturbating shamelessly.

Harry blinked for a moment and licked his lips briefly. "Don't tell me I never do anything for you." And then he pounced, batting Draco's hand away and engulfing the blonde's cock in his mouth. His hands were firm on Draco's hips, holding him in place as he went down on the Slytherin. 

Draco cried out at the sudden sensation, involuntarily thrusting upwards. Harry's grip on his hips tightened, slightly bruising his pale skin. Draco was too enraptured with the feel of that warm, wet mouth and that clever tongue to give a damn though. He curled a leg around Harry's waist and threw his head back, arching his torso up as Harry nipped lightly at his balls, sucking first one into his mouth and then another. The Slytherin slid his fingers into the other boy's hair and held on for dear life, his breath stuttering in his chest when Harry wiggled a dry finger inside him. Harry moved back to suck hard on Draco's cock and pressed firmly against his prostate. 

And that was it, Draco was gone. His vision flickered white for a moment. His thighs tightened and his eyes squeezed shut and he came with a loud keen, his back arching even higher than before. With a last shudder he emptied himself into Harry's mouth and collapsed back on the bed limply. Harry sprinkled a few kisses on Draco's stomach before scooting up for a kiss, their tongues twining lazily. Draco was a bit too out of it to do more than compliantly accept Harry's hungry kisses and attempt to reciprocate despite the fact his thoughts were all fuzzy. Harry's hands were pressed against the sides of Draco's face as he ravished the slender blonde's mouth, his cock tenting his cotton pajama bottoms and leaving a wet spot on them that Draco couldn't resist rubbing at.

The Slytherin, his tongue still busy half-heartedly dueling the Gryffindor's, reached down and began working those awful stripped pajamas off Harry. It took a bit of coordination, effort, and patience, but eventually them managed to strip the dark haired boy without breaking their kiss. Of course, two of the buttons had popped off, but it was for a good cause. Harry trailed his mouth down to the hollow of Draco's throat and licked at the droplets of sweat that had gathered there.

Draco grinned and twisted under Harry's weight, relishing the feel of the other boy's solid body over his own. He reached down and started jerking the other boy off with agonizing slowness. It seemed as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of them - everything else fading away for the moment. Harry's breath was ragged and loud in the otherwise quiet room.

"Come here." Draco ordered and he guided Harry carefully as the other boy straddled his chest, kneeling so that his cock was only inches away from Draco's lips. The Slytherin parted his lips and blew slightly on the head of Harry's cock. A drop of precum fell, landing on Draco's bottom lip and he licked it off. Harry moaned softly at the sight and pressed forward, his erection nudging at the Slytherin's mouth. Draco flicked his tongue out and lapped at the head of the other boy's cock, savoring the bittersweet taste. 

He let Harry's erection slide inside his mouth and twirled his tongue over the head before sucking deeply on it. His hands were cupping Harry's arse, squeezing every now and then and urging the other boy forward. Harry was panting by now, his chest rising and falling as he thrust inside Draco's mouth slowly again and again. He put his hand in Draco's hair and angled his head back, his hips pushing forward so that he was fucking Draco's mouth. The Slytherin was trapped between Harry's muscular thighs, his mouth full of cock, and at Harry's mercy. It was so erotic his cock twitched of it's own accord, but he'd already come once and no matter how enthusiastic he was about the situation it wasn't getting up again any time soon.

Harry's cock pumped in and out of his mouth, bruising his lips and sliding down his throat. Draco let his middle finger slip between Harry's ass cheeks and gently teased at the other boy's entrance. The Gryffindor stilled, tensing all over for a single second. And then he came, flooding Draco's mouth with salty sweetness. He shivered all over and pulled out, toppling to the side and almost hitting his head on the wall. "Harry?" Draco asked out of concern, propping himself up on one elbow.

"Mmm?" Harry scooted around, burrowing under the covers and waiting for Draco to join him so he could cuddle up against the other boy. "Yes?"

"Just making sure you didn't give yourself a concussion." Draco said as Harry tucked his head underneath the blonde's chin and threw his arm over his chest. Their legs tangled together, making it difficult to discern which limbs belonged to who.

"I'm fine. Just a bit woozy. That was nice though, wasn't it?"

Draco smiled his agreement, drifting into a haze of post-orgasmic bliss and, shortly after that, to sleep.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	3. Homesick for Hogwarts

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I recommend that you read before starting this. This is a Harry/Draco story. If you have any questions about the story or you just want to discuss something in it e-mail me. I'm always eager to hear what people think.

Warnings for this chapter: Language. Just a smidgeon of angst at the end.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

The Dursleys were mean-spirited, prejudiced, and so unattractive that it was astonishing they were related at all to Harry. If all muggles were like the Dursleys it was no wonder Lucius wanted to wipe them all off the face of the planet. Really, the next time someone called him a witch he was going to give them boils. Their ignorance was appalling and tiresome, but when Draco attempted to correct them they went into a tizzy as soon as he said the word magic.

It was sort of ironic really. Their insistence that they were completely normal (no freakishness _here _thank you very much) was so vehement it actually made them unusual. Most people wanted to be at least a little unique, special if you would, but not the Dursleys. _Different_ might as well have been a curse word with the way they wrinkled their nose at the concept.

Dudley didn't really care one way or another, but his gluttony and sheer stupidity more than made up for it. He was even bigger than Crabbe and he spent all day in front of what Harry had informed Draco was a computer, pounding away at various buttons as he tried to 'make level forty-seven', whatever that meant. All Draco knew was that strange clangs, whistles, screeches, and rumbling noises could be heard from Dudley's room at almost all hours of the day.

The house itself was fairly quiet, though in the afternoons Petunia always watched her soaps, filling the downstairs living room with voices from the 'tally' or whatever that box was called. Harry and Draco were pretty much left to their own devices. The two wizards spent a lot of time outdoors in the back yard, lazing about or just chatting with one another. When it they got too hot they went inside for lemonade and did their summer homework. Draco helped Harry with his Potions, mostly because Harry lacked any extra sources for his essay and Draco had plenty of potions books. 

Three days or so had passed, leaving Draco restless and vaguely dissatisfied. He felt trapped in the house, but it was too warm outside to do anything interesting. With a sigh, he went inside Harry's room and sprawled out on the bed. The owl cages on the dresser were empty since Harry had let Hedwig and Grindylow out last night and they were still wandering about. They'd be back soon and they could look after themselves for the time being so Draco wasn't worried. Owls were notoriously intelligent creatures.

"How's the essay coming along?" Draco finally ventured, turning around so his head hung off the bed and the other boy appeared to be upside down.

Harry was hunched over his desk and he sent a scorching glare Draco's way. "Very, very slowly. I can't believe you already finished yours. It's impossible! Who cares how opossum tails react to sphinx fur? It's a bloody waste of time if you ask me." He jabbed his quill in Draco's direction before setting back down on the parchment and scribbling something out. "I mean, I'm never really going to have to know this! And if for some really weird reason I do, you'll be there to make the stupid potion for me."  


Draco paused, suddenly flushed with warmth. Obviously Harry assumed their relationship would be a long-term one and the unexpected reassurance managed to soothe worries that had been niggling at his mind for some time. The relief he felt was acute and it took a moment for Draco to drag his mind back to the conversation. "Only if you ask nicely." He finally managed, sitting upright and shaking his head dizzily when the blood rushed back down to the rest of his body.

There is a moment of comfortable silence between them as Harry scratched out another line on his parchment, obviously wracking his brain for more ideas. A sudden screeching noise drew their attention to the window and Draco stood up to open it. A ragged ball of feathers careened into the room with another screech, zooming through the air and impacting with the wall. There was a thump as it landed on the floor. Draco inched forward cautiously to poke his toe at the thing.

"Is that an owl?" He asked, jumping back when it ruffled its feathers and flapped around to right itself again.

Harry sighed. "That's Errol."

"Weasley's bird, right? It looks half dead." Draco said snidely, amused at the owl's scruffy appearance. By all rights the poor bird should have been retired years ago. It was far too old to be delivering messages. Harry gave him a tired look and Draco arranged his features to look properly apologetic. "Ooh, he sent you a letter. Let's see it then." The Slytherin snatched it from the bird's leg and danced out of Harry's reach, opening it quickly.

"Hey, Mate!" Draco read out loud, mimicking Ron's enthusiastic tones. "Things here at the Burrow are as crazy as always! George and Fred set up a laboratory in their room and I swear, there's an explosion in there at least three times a day! Mum's going spare! Blah, blah, blah I'm a wanker, blah!" Draco ad-libbed, ducking under Harry's arm and scampering across the room so he could continue making fun of the Weasel in peace.

"Draco, give that back! Right now!" The blonde dodged a lunge and used Harry's desk chair to ward the other boy off, laughing all the while.

"Now, now! Patience is a virtue. Where was I? Oh, yes. Wanker, blah. He goes on about Granger and oh - what?" Draco switched back to his pseudo-Weasley voice. "Mum's inviting you and that git Malfoy to the Burrow. And by git, I mean devilishly handsome and charming bloke who I want to shag desperately - hey!"

Harry grabbed the letter and began reading it for himself silently. "There's nothing here about shagging you, thank god." He said finally, looking up from the parchment to give Draco an exasperated look.  


"Oh, I forgot. That's just you, isn't it?" Draco said flirtatiously, waggling his eyebrows at the Gryffindor.

"Fuck off." Harry said mildly, turning back to his letter. 

The Slytherin grinned and lowered his voice to smooth, sultry murmur. "Fuck off, you say? I'd much rather fuck you than fuck off, Harry." That managed to get a reaction and Draco was gratified to see the other boy blush slightly. 

But he was smiling despite his flushed cheeks. "Draco! You're such a pervert."

And there was that scandalized tone Draco was so very fond of. "Ah, but I'm your pervert."

"Yeah, I guess you are." Another strange flush of warmth filled Draco's chest and he couldn't quite stop the fond glance he sent Harry's way. The Gryffindor, however, was oblivious as to how his words had affected the other boy. "I can't believe Mrs. Weasley invited you to the Burrow. I think she's decided to adopt you. You might even get a Weasley sweater this Christmas."

Draco silently scoffed at the very idea. No way in hell was he wearing one of those sartorial disasters. Still, he couldn't help but laugh, snickering to himself at the very thought. "Oh! Father would die to hear you say that. I bet all my ancestors are rolling in their graves. A Malfoy adopted by the Weasleys! It's mind-boggling."

"Mind-boggling, but nice. Mrs. Weasley's great. And she really does like you. She thinks you're sweet and handsome. It drives Ron up the wall."

"I bet." Draco said dryly. "At least she has good taste though." 

"I wouldn't be too sure of that; She liked Lockhart too." Harry dodged the pillow Draco chucked as his head and pursued his letter once more, his eyes scanning the hastily scrawled lines. "The invitation's for the end of summer. Oh and apparently Percy's engaged to Penelope Clearwater."

Draco strode over to the window, suddenly bored again. There was only so much Weasley talk he could take after all. All at once, his good mood faded, draining away as fast as it had come. "He's the one who was Head Boy, right?" He asked, clearly disinterested.  


"Yeah." Harry folded the letter up, gave Errol a treat, and took a seat at his desk again. Draco watched as the owl hopped up on the window sill and flapped away, slightly tipping to the right as he zigzagged down the street drunkenly. The blonde shook his head in bemusement at the odd picture. There was a short squeal of tires as a car swerved to avoid Errol and then the bird was truly airborne, beating his wings laboriously to stay upright. "Ginny must be using Pigwidgeon, I guess. Oh well, I hope Errol makes it back in one piece." Harry adjusted his glasses, both of them watching as the owl flew off into the distance. 

Draco leaned his head against the window frame and looked out on the foreign muggle landscape. Everything was perfectly symmetrical and so very modern. For some reason, the sight made Draco feel melancholy. This place had no personality at all and Draco suddenly missed Hogwarts with a piercing poignancy that made his chest ache and his throat tighten. Quite simply, he was homesick. He'd give his right arm for a sip of pumpkin juice. Draco hated #4 Privet Drive with its stupid white walls and horribly small rooms. And the petty prejudice of Harry's relatives didn't help matters either. Frankly, Draco was sick of it all. He didn't understand how Harry could have tolerated it for so long.

The Gryffindor must have noticed something, Draco's sudden silence or the longing expression on his face, because he came up behind Draco and wrapped his arms around the slender boy tightly. The warm embrace made the homesickness a bit more bearable and the blonde relaxed against Harry, comforted by the gesture. "What's wrong?" Harry asked, all genuine concern and sympathy. He pressed a kiss to Draco's hair, nuzzling at the thin, fine golden strands.

"Nothing." Draco replied automatically, before thinking better of it. "I'm just - feeling a little out of place." Which was an understatement. He had no clue what half the machines in the house were for, Harry kept having to explain everything to him like he was a child, which was not only irritating, but embarrassing, the Dursleys _hated _him, and to top it all off Dudley kept eating all their dinner and leaving them with scraps. Even the threat of magic couldn't keep Pig Boy away from a prospective meal. And being forced to listen to his own stomach rumble as it attempted to digest itself was not exactly Draco's activity of choice. It was bad enough he had to be here at all. Was a little bloody food too much to ask for? 

Harry's arms tightened around him reassuringly. "I know how that feels. It's only for two weeks, Draco. We'll survive."

Draco felt stupid for being such a fucking ponce about the whole thing, but on the other hand… it felt nice too. To have someone who was willing to hold him when he was feeling a bit depressed or when he just wanted a hug. It was a luxury Draco wasn't use to, but one he thought he could get to like. "I miss Hogwarts." He finally said after a long moment of silence, his voice unusually quiet and somber.

"Me too, Draco. Me too."

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	4. Announcements and nightmares

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I recommend that you read before starting this. This is a Harry/Draco story. If you have any questions about the story or you just want to discuss something in it e-mail me. I'm always eager to hear what people think. 

Warnings for this chapter: Language. Just a smidgeon of angst again. And some smut and a bit of sap too.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

That night at dinner, Vernon Dursley informed his family and his two unwelcome house guests of the sudden change in plans. "Petunia, you and I will be going out of the town for the next four days. We're going on a company cruise! Grunnings is paying for the trip since the CEO's son-in-law managed to book everyone tickets. This may just be the big break I've been waiting for since _someone_ ruined that dinner with the Masons." This was followed by a pointed look at Harry who appeared to be utterly fascinated with his juice. Vernon started puffing up with self importance as he continued on. "Rumor has it that Puddlefoot is retiring and Mr. Underwood's looking for someone to take his position!" 

"Oh, Vernon! A four day cruise? What about the house?" Petunia asked, worrying at her napkin.

The beefy man waved it away. "We'll have that Figg woman check up on it once a day. Dudley's old enough to be by himself for a few days. He'll be the man of the house while we're gone, Petunia. It'll do him good." Dudley beamed, his round face shiny with perspiration and, on his chin at least, grease.

"Really, Dad? Wicked! Can Piers come over while you're gone?"

"Of course, my little Duddy-kins! We wouldn't want you getting lonely." Petunia chipped in, patting her son's hand lovingly. Draco rolled his eyes and speared another piece of asparagus on his fork. It was the only thing Dudley had left severely alone on the table, but at this point Draco was glad there was anything at all left to eat. He could always transfigure himself food, but to be honest he (much like Snape) was only passable at Transfigurations and nothing ruined the appetite like suddenly having your meal turn back into its original form in your stomach.

"Yes, that'll be fine, Dudders. And _you_ _two_ are going to be on your best behavior while we're gone, aren't you, boy?" Vernon glared at mostly at Draco, who didn't even twitch at the ire sent his way. Being raised by Lucius Malfoy had made Draco immune to such things, which was probably the only good result really. 

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry affirmed woodenly, chewing on his own asparagus. 

"Yes, we'll endeavor not to burn the house down around our ears while you're gone." Draco drawled, giving the man a contemptuous look. Dursley flushed red, but kept his mouth shut. 

Whenever Draco was at his most arrogant the older man seemed almost… _afraid _of him. Which was only common sense really. Maybe Dursley could sense that Draco had been raised by a man who killed his sort without batting an eyelash and because of it the Slytherin's morals were a bit - skewed. At any rate, he never attempted to bully Draco the way he did Harry. For that matter, he never tried to bully Harry when Draco was around either, though the Instant ScalpingspellDraco had cast on Vernon Dursley the one and only time he tried it probably had something to do with it. And frankly, Draco still thought the hair piece Vernon was wearing on his head now (it vaguely resembled a small woodland creature) was absolutely, bloody hilarious. So did Harry for that matter.

Dursley on the other hand hadn't been quite so amused.

The muggle glared at Draco one last time before turning to Petunia with a tight smile. "That's all settled then. Arrangements for transportation have already been made. We leave Friday evening at six."  


"Tomorrow?" Dudley asked, pausing for a moment from shoveling food into his mouth. "But it's my birthday this weekend! I'm still getting presents, right? And you are going to get me a gift from the trip, aren't you?"

"Of course, Dudley." Vernon reassured his son. Then he leaned forward, smiling. "After I get this promotion, I'll get you your very own car! How about that, eh?"  


Dudley grinned, showing off the bit of chicken he had stuck between his front teeth. "That's brilliant! I want lots of presents for my birthday too, since you aren't going to be here."

"Of course. Of course, my boy. Wouldn't dream of skimping you. That's my Dudley, knows what he wants and isn't afraid to ask for it." 

Petunia dabbed at her wet eyes with her napkin. "Oh, he's growing up so fast! But you'll always be Mummy's little boy, won't you?"

Harry turned to look at Draco with an expression of disbelief and Draco mirrored it. _Little _certainly wasn't a word anyone with eyes would use to describe Dudley. For a moment they were in complete and utter accord, their thoughts exactly the same. The whole scene was preposterous, really.

"Er… may we be excused?" Harry finally asked after a quick glance at both of their empty plates.

Petunia pinned them with a suspicious look, but nodded anyway. "Go ahead. And try not to make too much racket."

And if anyone noticed that Harry's ears turned pink at her words, they didn't make an issue of it. The two boys took the stairs at a jog, darting through the hallway and jostling each other slightly as they ducked inside Harry's room. It really was small, which Draco tended to forget when Harry was around to distract him, but sometimes when he walked into the room the realization hit him all over again. 

There was a bit of small talk followed by homework and then Draco changed into his pajamas while Harry watched him in what the Gryffindor probably thought was a discreet manner. However, staring was staring any way you cut it and that bit of leering added in was definitely not subtle at all. Draco sent him an amused, knowing look as he finished buttoning up his top and settled down in bed with _Everything an Aspiring Potions Master Needs to Know _by Bartholomew Bogtrotter. "Coming to bed, Harry?" Draco asked, because really how much better could life get than cuddling with Harry while reading an advanced Potions textbook? And the sad thing was that he really meant that.

"Not just yet. I'm writing Ron back. And I should probably write to Hermione too. She's vacationing in Venice this summer."  


"Mmmhmm." Draco hummed absently, already absorbed in his book. Not that that was his only reason for inattention; the boring little lives of the Weasel and his Mudblood weren't exactly riveting. Though Draco would never call them that out loud. Ever. Mostly because if Harry ever caught him at it (and with Draco's luck he would) the Slytherin would never get laid again. And sex with Harry was something he'd go to any lengths to have, even if it meant being nice to an arsehole like Weasley.

Draco read through the three chapters that pertained to his current research, reclining in the bed while Harry tended to his mail. The owls returned halfway through, hooting and nipping at each other. Hedwig flew over to land on Harry's shoulder and nip at his ear dotingly while Grindylow came to beg for treats from Draco. The Slytherin merely petted the soft feathers near his owl's beak and asked his boyfriend to tend to their food, since he was already up.

After giving the owls water and treats, the Gryffindor sent Hedwig off with Ron's letter and changed into his own cotton pajamas before crawling into bed. "Done yet?" He asked, obviously ready for lights-out. Draco wasn't, but he didn't want to keep Harry up either so he put his book up and after after a while they both fell asleep into a peaceful slumber. 

It didn't last for very long.

It wasn't quite midnight when Harry's thrashing woke Draco. Groggy and out of sorts, he turned to find what had disturbed his rest. It was Harry, his messy hair damp with sweat and his face twisted with pain as he twitched from whatever unpleasant scenes invaded his dreams. Draco ran a soothing hand over the other boy's side, attempting to calm him. It made no difference. With a muted whimper, Harry rolled over, his legs twisting in the covers as his thrashing grew increasingly violent.

"Harry. Harry, wake up."

"No. God, no… Stop, don't... kill you." Harry mumbled to himself, his body tensing all over as tautly as a drawn bowstring. 

Draco started to become worried and he shook the Gryffindor, hoping that would be enough to draw him out of sleep. "Harry, wake up. You're having a nightmare, wake up." But Harry didn't seem to be affected at all by his efforts. In fact, if anything, the nightmare grew worse.

A low, keening whine like that of a trapped animal escaped Harry's throat and the dark haired boy ducked his head and pressed his forehead against the bed. "No, leave them… stop." 

"Harry." Draco tried again, desperation making his voice a bit more high pitched than it should have been. "Wake up! Wake up, you Gryffindor bastard. Harry!" But the other boy was oblivious. "Fuck. Come on love, snap out of it. Please." And Draco was almost begging, because he'd never felt so helpless in his life.

Harry turned his face upwards, sweat sheening his skin lightly. The sharp scent of fear was thick in the air. The Slytherin smoothed back Harry's hair, freezing when he noticed the curse scar on Harry's forehead was thick and swollen, a darting line of red that pulsed angrily. It was no wonder Harry couldn't wake up - he was having a vision of some sort, not a dream.

"Can't… oh, god. No!"

Fuck. Fuck, Draco didn't know what to do and Harry was probably watching someone get murdered, was possibly even seeing Lucius murder someone, and all Draco could do was sit here and watch him like the stupid ponce he was. He was useless.

Draco's hands fluttered hesitantly over Harry's chest before settling and stroking softly as if attempting to gentle the flexing muscles. It didn't seem to help any, but it made Draco feel better so he kept at it, petting Harry's messy mop and the tight line of his forearms before rubbing at the other boy's stomach. Harry's abs rippled as he flinched at some unseen horror, before he turned over, burying his face against the covers. The blonde ran his hands down Harry's back soothingly, determined to wait out the worst of the nightmare.

Harry's mutters were becoming increasing distressed, which made Draco feel even more on edge. Suddenly, the Slytherin remembered an old lullaby one of the house elves had been fond of singing him after particularly bad nightmares and he cleared his throat self-consciously before humming the tune. The music, while it didn't completely jolt Harry from his nightmare, did seem to help him relax and because it appeared to be doing some good Draco continued singing despite feeling incredibly foolish. Music was magic after all and Draco was happy to just _do_ something even if it was a bit on the poncey side.

He didn't know how long it lasted, but when Harry finally woke Draco's back ached from bending over the other boy and his voice was slightly hoarse. "Thank Merlin. You're awake." Draco said when Harry's green eyes fluttered open, stark relief in his voice.

Harry's jaw was clenched and there were shadows behind his eyes. There was a wrinkle between his brows and the weary expression on his face made him seem much older than his sixteen years. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"What do you think?" Draco snapped, his nerves too raw to handle stupid questions. Harry, still reeling from his nightmare, flinched and Draco felt like the biggest git to walk the earth. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be a prick. Sorry." He repeated, softly this time. "You scared me, is all." And as soon as he said it he realized it was true, though he hadn't even known it himself. Normally, he would never admit to fear, but he'd spent the last two hours watching his lover being tormented by visions from a Dark Lord and unable to help him. It was just the two of them and Harry was too honorable to think badly of him for it.

"I'm sorry." Harry replied, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

"Don't be. It's not your fault." They didn't mention whose fault it was, because Voldemort was not something to be discussed in the middle of the night and Draco had no clue how sensitive Harry was on the subject. It just wasn't wise to bring up the topic, for so many reasons.

Harry said nothing in reply, instead he stared dully at the wall, his mind obviously elsewhere. Draco was about to speak, though he had no idea what to say, when Harry clambered out of bed and turned on the light. He walked over to his desk and picked up his quill and began writing on a stray piece of parchment. The Slytherin refrained from commenting on it and instead watched as Harry filled the paper with line after cramped line. "Can I use your owl? I already sent Hedwig off to deliver Ron's letter."

"Go ahead." 

He hesitated when Grindylow glowered at him from his perch, but a sharp command from Draco had him sticking out his leg sullenly for Harry to tie his missive to it. After the owl unsuccessfully attempted to take a chunk of flesh out of the Gryffindor's hand Harry opened the window for him. In moments, Grindylow was gone, only a soft swoosh of a single wing beat to herald his parting. With a sigh, Harry slid back in bed, sidling over Draco's legs to take his place between the tow headed boy and the wall.

"Who… who was the letter for?" Draco finally ventured, turning a little to face Harry. The Gryffindor's reply was quiet. Somber, even.

"Dumbledore."

"Oh." There was an awkward moment of silence, mostly on Draco's part. Harry seemed relieved that the conversation had ended. Obviously, he didn't want to talk about it. He was almost brooding really. Draco sighed and moved closer, pulling Harry up against him. The dark haired boy shifted in his arms uncomfortably for a moment before settling down with a sigh of his own.

They were silent for a moment and Draco knew that even though Harry was mere inches from him his mind was much farther away at the moment. The Slytherin reached out to stroke the line of Harry's jaw contemplatively, brushing his fingers back and forth as he let the silence settle between them. Harry turned his head and captured Draco's hand with his own, pressing a swift kiss to his palm. His eyes glittered in the darkness, possibly with moisture, but if there were tears in Harry's eyes they did not fall. Draco leaned forward, capturing the other boy's mouth with his own and cupping the back of his neck as they kissed passionately. It was as if Harry was trying to lose himself for the moment, to forget the things he'd seen and Draco was more than willing to help him out in that regard.

They kissed slowly, savoring the slide of tongues and the play of mouth on mouth. Draco nibbled on Harry's lower lip before swiping his tongue along the line of his lip and slipping it back into Harry's mouth. Harry slid his hands under Draco's nightshirt, dragging them over the smooth skin of his back. They fumbled each others clothes off, tumbling back so that Draco was pinned to the bed under the other boy's weight. Anticipating just this situation, the Slytherin had put a small vial of lubricant in the nightstand and he located it hurriedly before handing it to Harry. The Gryffindor prepared Draco quickly, but thoroughly and lifted Draco's legs by the back of his knees, sliding them over his shoulders. Draco felt exposed, but somehow that just made it that much hotter. Then Harry was sliding inside him and it all faded away. It was a quiet coupling and while Draco would have liked to be the one doing the fucking for a change, it was no hardship to have it the other way around.

Harry screwed him with slow, deep thrusts at a steady pace as if trying to wring every bit of pleasure out of the encounter to distract himself. Draco had to bite his bottom lip to stifle his moans and he found himself writhing under the onslaught of Harry's thorough assault. It felt so good, so very pleasurable, that he found himself grasping the sheets so tightly his knuckles were white and he gasped when the dark haired boy reached down to stroke his neglected erection. Draco shuddered and came with a muffled cry, spilling warm wetness over his stomach and Harry's hand.

And still the Gryffindor fucked him, though his hips began to move more rapidly. Even that felt good, though Draco had already had an orgasm. The little sparks of pleasure were enough to keep Draco satisfied while Harry pounded away at him breathlessly. The thrusts became rougher and more erratic and then Harry came suddenly with a strangled gasp. He slowed and then stopped altogether, settling himself over Draco and tucking his head under the blonde boy's chin. Draco's arm automatically came up to cradle the Gryffindor as they laid there quietly. They had not exchanged a single word throughout it all, but somehow Harry had still managed to convey his sorrow and desperation with every touch.

Draco shifted his hips a little, surprised to note that the other boy hadn't pulled out yet, but he had no complaints there. It was nice to be - filled like that and he was more than happy to let Harry loose himself in his body. When he felt Harry's warm tears pool against his throat and the vibrations of his silent sobs, Draco said nothing, merely stroking Harry's messy hair with a tenderness that surprised even himself. 

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	5. Summer scenes

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I recommend that you read before starting this. This is a Harry/Draco story. If you have any questions about the story or you just want to discuss something in it e-mail me. I'm always eager to hear what people think. There are two different scenes here, but since they were so short I just sort of threw them together. Enjoy.

Warnings for this chapter: Language.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

A sliver of light from the hallway fell over Draco's closed eyelids, drawing him from sleep. The Slytherin sat up groggily, suddenly realizing he was naked and in bed with an equally naked Boy Who Lived. "I just wanted to go over the rules one last time befo-" Petunia stopped mid-word, shocked into silence to see her sleeping nephew and his lover in bed together, their limbs intertwined and their hair mussed.

Draco looked up and his expression became hard. "Yes?"  


"You-!"

"Were sleeping before you so rudely interrupted me." Draco finished for her since she seemed unable to do it herself. "So what are the rules again?" He prompted, noting how flustered the house wife was. The covers were rucked up around his waist exposing his bare chest and Harry had instinctively curled around him, one arm dangling over his waist. There was no question that their relationship was more than a platonic one.

She began reciting them distractedly, her hand pressed to her throat in shock. Her voice was a strangled croak. "No visitors, no magic, no going outside, and you have to listen to Dudley and act normal. Why on earth aren't you _dressed_?!" She finally found the presence of mind to ask, though Draco could have done without such a shrill query so early in the morning. It was barely five. 

"Because I went to bed this way. And I advise you keep this development to yourself."

"You! You - corrupted him with your freakish ways! How _dare _you do this under our roof!"  


Draco found his temper snapping and when he looked her in the eye she must have seen some trace of Lucius Malfoy in the cold, unforgiving gaze he pinned her with because she took two steps back and paled considerably. "How dare you insinuate that _I'm_ a bad influence when it's a wonder Harry even managed to stay sane after his childhood with you? Locking him in a _cupboard_? Letting your son beat up on him constantly? Practically starving him?! I'm sure your sister would have been so very proud." He said scathingly and Petunia flinched, though he wasn't sure if it was from his tone of voice or the mention of Lily Potter. "If this is the way you treat your flesh and blood it's a wonder you haven't killed me yet_. Get out_. Now! And keep your fucking mouth shut or I'll hex you into oblivion, you stupid bint." He felt satisfaction at managing some bit of revenge for Harry, no matter how small.

Petunia swiftly turned around, practically fleeing the room. "And have a nice time on your cruise." Draco added with a smirk, watching her shut the door behind her with a bang. Stupid muggle.

Harry shifted in his sleep, mumbling something inaudible. Draco, smirking to himself, settled down with his head on Harry's chest and pulled the covers up to his chin. It was warm and cozy and before he knew it he had fallen asleep once more.

***

Piers Polkiss arrived at #4 Privet Drive around noon, loaded down with a few presents for Dudley as well as a large box that Dudley had called a 'cooler'. The two muggle boys quickly retreated to Dudley's room to play those weird games of his, leaving the rest of the house to Harry and Draco. The fridge was well stocked in Petunia and Vernon's absence and Harry was eager to take advantage of it. He was making them both bologna sandwiches, puttering around the kitchen happily for once.

That morning Grindylow had returned with a response from Dumbledore and somehow the letter had managed to cheer Harry up considerably. Of course, if Draco left him alone for any long amount of time he began brooding, but it was to be expected. Harry didn't offer any information about his vision and Draco didn't ask. He didn't particularly _want _to know who had been killed by the Dark Lord recently and Harry, he was sure, didn't need to dwell on it any more than he was already.

However, in the warm light of day curse scars and Dark Lords were a distant thing. It was summer after all and even the memory of nightmares wasn't enough to keep Harry's spirits down for long. Draco had perched on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth as his boyfriend welded a butter knife with alacrity. Distant clangs and whistles drifted down from Dudley's room, but by now he was use to them. "So, we have all day to ourselves without your aunt and uncle breathing down our necks. Whatever shall we do?" He asked, arching one eyebrow and giving Harry a long, intense half-lidded stare that eloquently communicated _exactly_ what he wanted to do. 

Harry grinned a little, becoming more used the fact Draco welded innuendo like a weapon and welded it often. "Don't even think about it." But he looked up at the Slytherin from underneath his sooty eyelashes flirtatiously in a way that was by no means discouraging. 

Draco eyed the butter knife, but smiled back anyway, letting his tongue run along his teeth suggestively for a moment. "What? You don't want my gorgeous body?"  


"That's not the point."

"What is the point then?" Draco asked skeptically. "We're teenage boys - sex is always the point."

Harry laughed at him, but disagreed. "The point is, I don't want to have sex in the middle of the afternoon when Piers Polkiss and Dudley are one door down and are probably going to stumble in at just the wrong moment. I mean, do you really want to see Dudley's face when we're going at it?"  


Draco had to admit he did, indeed, have a point that was not sex. 

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	6. Happy Birthday Duddykins

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I _strongly_ recommend that you read before starting this. This is a Harry/Draco story. If you have any questions about the story or you just want to discuss something in it e-mail me. I'm always eager to hear what people think. Also, this chapter is fairly long. So, go read it, already!

Warnings for this chapter: Language. Smut.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

Things took a decidedly strange turn sometime around six. Draco had been in the living room with Harry, watching the telly. ("Not the tally, Draco. It's the telly. Tell-y." Draco had promptly retorted with, "Fuck off, Harr-y.") The shows were stupid, but oddly fascinating. Somewhat like a splinching. You knew you really shouldn't look, but you couldn't quite help it. However, soon enough the blaring sounds of the television were interrupted by a ringing doorbell. 

Draco gave a questioning look to Harry who seemed to be just a baffled, but before they could decide whether or not to answer the door heavy thumps heralded Dudley's descent down the stairs. Polkiss was dogging his steps, his narrow rat face alight with anticipation. "They're here!"

"What do you mean, they're here?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Shut up, Potter before I punch your lights out."

"Watch your mouth," Draco snapped out automatically, not liking that superior tone of voice, not to mention the threat. He hadn't been introduced to Piers beyond Harry's explanation of who he was, which mostly consisted of the boy's name and an unflattering description.

Piers turned to Draco incredulously while Dudley answered the door, his little rat face twisted up with confusion as he tried to figure out just why the blonde haired boy was defending Dudley's cousin. "What?"

"I told you to watch your mouth. Don't talk to him that way."

"Oh, and what're you gonna do about it? You gonna stop me?"  


Harry decided to join in on the conversation, obviously eager to prevent any… mishaps. "He goes to St. Brutus' Secure School for Criminal Boys too, Piers. He knifed his roommate last year. I wouldn't mess with him." Draco decided to play along and gave Piers a wicked grin when he turned to look at the slim blonde in shock.

Piers was stunned at this, but the arrival of three other boys prevented any more conversation. "Piers, they're here! When are the others coming?" Dudley asked eagerly, turning to a boy who had spots all over his face.

"The other guys should be here in half and hour or so and the Stonewall girls will be here by eight."  


Draco leaned in towards Harry, his voice low and curious. "Who are these people?"

"The tall one's Dennis, the one with the weird spiked hair is Malcolm, and Gordon's the one with the acne problem. They're Dudley's friends." Which wasn't surprising. There was a whole lot of ugly in that group. Harry said quietly before standing up. "What exactly is going on here?"

Dudley turned to smirk at his cousin. "I'm having a party for my seventeenth birthday. And don't you dare go and ruin it!"  


"Aunt Petunia said we couldn't have anymore visitors. You know that, Dudley." Harry tried again, his arms crossed as he leveled his most righteous, Gryffindor-ish expression at the other boys. Draco felt a twinge of wry nostalgia at seeing it. In the past, that expression had been reserved solely for _him_.  


"Well, what Dudley's mum doesn't know won't hurt her, will it?" Piers asked with a sly smile twisting his lips.

"Fine, do whatever you like. But if I get blamed for this somehow Draco'll kick your arse."

Draco tried to look suitably unbalanced and dangerous, which appeared to work from the uneasy expression that crossed Piers' face. Dudley, aware of the fact Draco was more than capable of doing something awful to him with just a wave of his wand, spoke up when Malcolm cracked his knuckles and eyed Draco's smaller frame with cruel amusement. His words were rushed hurriedly together.

"Don't even bother. That one's not right in the head. Start a fight with him and he won't quit 'til you're half dead, never mind how much you pound him. He even went after Dad." The boys were suitably impressed with Draco's nerve at attacking a man almost three times his size and backed off quickly.  


"We'll be in my room. And try to keep the noise down!" Harry ordered, dragging his the Slytherin away from Dudley and the other boys before anything disastrous could happen. 

Draco sighed as they entered Harry's room and collapsed on the bed dramatically. "You, Mr. Potter, are no fun. Would it have been too much trouble for you to let me scare them just a little?"

"It was for the best." Harry said defensively, taking a seat at his desk. 

"Gryffindors." Draco sighed, no small amount of disgust in his voice. Harry only laughed at his exasperation. 

"Don't be such a pillock, Draco."  


"Well, maybe if you distract me…?" Draco suggested as he laid back, smirking lustfully at his lover.

Harry was amused, but enough to take Draco up on his offer. "Why don't you read a book or something? You have all those humongous potion books, might as well make use of them." The Slytherin conceded with a sigh, digging around for his copy of _Everything an Aspiring Potions Master Needs to Know._ It would help pass the time.

The time did, indeed, pass quickly and before Draco knew it loud voices and laughter echoed up the hallway from downstairs. He lifted his head and turned to Harry who was absorbed with his essay once more. "Harry, did you hear that?"  


The sound of glass shattering managed to capture the Gryffindor's attention when Draco's voice had not. "Fuck. I hope that wasn't Aunt Petunia's favorite vase." He rose, walking towards the door and Draco followed curiously.

"I can always fix it." The Slytherin reminded the other boy, trotting downstairs in order to examine just how much damage had been done in their absence. The house was crowded with all manner of muggles, though most seemed to be inebriated. One girl was dancing on top of the dining table. Draco averted his gaze quickly. Even if he had been attracted to girls, that particular one was by no means pretty. Though Piers obviously thought otherwise with the way he was staring up her skirt.

"Dudley!" Harry shouted, attempting to make his way through the chaotic crowd. The cacophony was deafening and whoever had chosen the music had very bad taste. He pushed his way through the crowd and Draco followed, trailing him into the living room where Dudley and a crowd were sitting around watching one boy attempt to put his leg behind his head. It was a futile endeavor and Draco couldn't help but smirk at the sight.

"I just heard something break." Harry announced, interrupting whatever was going on.

Dudley waved his cousin's concern away. "We were playing spin the bottle and it broke. Don't worry about it. Gordon swept it up. Now we're playing Truth or Dare, so you can leave."  


One of the girls perked up at Harry's entrance, giving him a thorough once over that made Draco grit his teeth. "Oooh, are you going to play?" He glowered at her, though her vacant, blue eyes were fixed on Harry and she didn't notice.

"Er, no. I've um. Got summer homework to do. C'mon Draco."

"Draco? What sort of a name is Draco?" One boy asked, snorting to himself.

The Slytherin glared, ignoring Harry's hand on his elbow as the Gryffindor urged him to leave. "The name of the boy who's going to pound your face in if you don't talk to him respectfully, arse-wipe."

"Sorry." The boy said, backing down as he raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. Draco, still a little miffed, nodded sharply to accept his apology and turned to leave. Harry looked utterly relieved that the confrontation had not led to bloodshed. 

"Sit down and play you two." Added another girl with dirty blonde long hair. She was smiling coyly at Draco, obviously unaware her charms had no affect on him. "It's more fun if you play with a lot of people."

Harry cringed a little. "Oh um. No thanks. Really. I've had my share of Truth and Dare." Draco had to snicker, remembering how last year he had let Harry hide in the prefects bathroom with him so he could avoid Colin Creevy who had been dared to kiss his idol. It was a memory he was fond of. Harry gave him an aggravated look when he realized what Draco was thinking about that the Slytherin proceeded to ignore.

"What? Are you scared, Harry?" Dudley taunted, stretching out on the couch a little. The girl next to him scooted over, a look of revulsion briefly passing over her face. Draco couldn't blame her. Dudley had a very large gut and at the moment it was apparently hogging the couch.

"No." Harry replied calmly. "I've just got better things to do than play kids' games."  


"Which means you're scared." The boy who had teased Draco about his name added in a knowing tone. Harry turned with irritation plain on his face. 

"I've never played this game of yours. What are the rules?" Draco asked, before Harry could do something stupid and impulsive.

The blonde haired girl bounced in her seat. "Oooh! Now you _have_ to play. Sit down!" 

Draco sent a quizzical look to Harry who sighed and agreed, taking a seat on the floor. Draco found out in short order that it was a terribly boring game and he left halfway through after seeing Dudley kiss some girl. Not only did it make him queasy, but he didn't need to play some stupid game in order to get a snog. One boy had to eat a plant while another had been dared to sit around in his underwear throughout the rest of the game. Dudley had even asked his cousin if he was a virgin and had been terribly disappointed to discover that Harry had actually managed to get laid. Draco had smirked at that.

The Slytherin absently wondered if it was a muggle thing or if teenagers were all that stupid. He knew some pretty dumb wizarding games and suspected it was probably the latter. The two boys left Dudley and his friends to their game, eager to escape the rampant stupidity and pettiness. On their way through the crowd, one obviously drunk girl latched onto Draco, her hand roaming in places it definitely was not supposed to be. Harry looked shocked, though expression quickly became one of possessiveness. 

However, before he could do anything about the situation, Draco peeled her off and turned her around, pushing her towards another boy who was more than happy to submit to her affections. He snagged a few drinks on his way towards the stairs and started up them first, giving Harry quite the view. After all, Dudley and company were quite absorbed with their silly little game which left Draco and his lover to pursue other forms of entertainment. 

When Harry shut the door to his room, things were suddenly much quieter and Draco sighed with relief as the assault on his poor eardrums ended. The glow of the lamp cast soft shadows around the room. Sometime in the past hour it had begun to rain and the soft pitter patter of the drops of water on the roof was soothing. Draco grinned impishly and handed Harry a beer. "Here you go. It's not Ogden's Fire Whiskey, but it'll do."

"Draco, are you trying to get me drunk?" Harry asked with a smile, kicking off his shoes and reclining on the bed.

"Yes, and then I plan to have my wicked way with you." Draco answered with complete honesty, joining Harry on the bed as he pried the bottle cap off his drink. Harry laughed, obviously aware that Draco hadn't been joking, but amused despite that. Or possibly because of it. Draco arranged himself so he was lying next to the Gryffindor and he paused to take off his own boots, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. It was quiet and comfortable, a balm to the senses after their little foray downstairs into the chaos that was Dudley's birthday party.

"So, how about our own private game of Truth or Dare?" Draco asked slyly, sipping at his beverage. He had a few ideas of exactly how to play the situation to his advantage and wasn't shy about implementing them.

Harry shifted uneasily, but then grinned, suddenly taken with the idea. "Alright. You first. Truth or dare?" He was awfully eager for someone who detested the game, but Draco found Harry's enthusiasm charming despite his own suspicions.

The Slytherin sloshed his drink around in its bottle meditatively for a moment, took a sip, and then answered. "Truth. Since you're obviously dying to ask me a question."

"Great. Who was the first person you ever had sex with?" Harry asked quickly, nervously anticipating the Slytherin's answer.

Draco arched one eyebrow, slightly disbelieving. "You, you dense sod."

Harry blinked in shock for a moment. "But - you. You always know exactly what to do!"  


"That's what pornography's for." Harry looked satisfied with this, possibly even a little gloating. Draco only grinned a little. "Your turn, truth or dare?"

"Ha! Truth. If I said dare you'd probably want me to suck you off." The Gryffindor said with a grin, taking a large swig of his own beer. "Urgh. This stuff is nasty." But he took another sip shortly afterwards anyway which made Draco laugh.

"Alright… how far did you get with Chang?" Draco had been wondering about it for some time and, while he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know the answer, if he didn't ask now he probably wouldn't get another chance. The two boys discussed quite a lot in their conversations, but past lovers wasn't a topic they'd ever breached.  


Harry blushed a little and scrutinized his beer bottle, picking at the label. "Er… she um. Went down on me once. And I sort of... You know."

"Went down on her?" Draco asked in a voice that was far too level to be genuinely calm. He tried to stamp out the seething jealousy he felt, but it was difficult.  


Harry's eyes became huge. "No! God, no! I just, you know. Used my.. Er. Fingers." He mumbled the last, not quite looking Draco in the eye. 

The Slytherin snickered, suddenly relieved. "Oh, is that all?" Draco was unhappy he'd done anything with Chang, but it could have been much worse.

"Yeah, your turn now." Harry reminded him, suddenly relaxed now that he was out of the spotlight. This game was much more interesting with just the two of them and no stupid muggles to interfere. And of course, the fact Colin Creevy wasn't around to steal a snog or two from Harry helped immensely. No wonder the Gryffindor had wanted to avoid the game at first.

"Dare." Draco declared, offering the Gryffindor a challenging look. 

Harry shifted his gaze to the ceiling as he thought for a moment. "Um… how about… I dare you to tell me how far you've gone with other boys."

Draco pouted for a moment. He'd practically handed Harry a way for them to let the game evolve into some serious sex, but the other boy obviously wasn't playing by the rules. "Are you sure it works that way?"

"Positive." Harry said firmly and if he was lying, for once Draco couldn't tell. He sighed before reluctantly answering. 

"I snogged with Cornfoot and sometimes we'd give each other hand jobs. Nothing more than that, really. Though, come to think of it, we did snog a lot."

"That's all?" The dark haired boy asked, disbelief coloring his tones. Obviously he'd expected Draco to be some sort of Slytherin Sex God. Ha, hardly. While Draco was certainly sex on legs, he wasn't some kind of slut. His standards were far too high for that.

"Oh, shut up. Your turn." Draco reminded him, suddenly realizing he could ask Harry _anything_ about their relationship and get an honest answer, because Harry was simply like that. The Gryffindor must have noticed that gleam in his eye that meant trouble because he paused for a moment.

"Er. Dare." He blurted out and appeared to regret it once Draco smiled delightedly at him.

"Yes!" The Slytherin exclaimed, making a little whooping noise. "I dare you to… hmm." He thought for a bit, pondering as Harry nervously fiddled with his shirt sleeve. "I dare you to let me fuck you. Right now." Draco added, setting aside his beer bottle and turning so he faced the Gryffindor.

"Oh. Oh, um. Er." Harry stuttered, taken by surprise at the Slytherin's boldness.

He gently removed the beer from Harry's hand and set it on the nightstand along with his own, resting a hand on Harry's chest and throwing his leg over the dark haired boy's calf. "I want you." Draco said in a quiet, husky tone, never breaking eye-contact. "It feels really good, Harry. I let you do it to me, don't I?"  


Harry looked a little intrigued at that. Draco could tell. "Well, um. The others-"  


"Are distracted at the moment. I'll cast a silencing charm on the door and I'll lock it myself, okay? I really want to do this with you, Harry. You should try it at least once, just to see if you like it." Draco added, standing up to tend to the door and the charm. He padded back to the bed, already unbuttoning his shirt. The Gryffindor's eyes lingered on his bare chest and Draco smiled seductively at him, trying to encourage him.

"Okay." Harry agreed, looking a little nervous, but fairly game.

"There's that Gryffindor bravery." Draco teased, shrugged out of his shirt and starting on his pants. They pooled around his feet briefly before he stepped out of them. He toed off his socks and slid onto the bed, watching the other boy struggle out of his clothes. Mmm, all that tan, silky skin just for him. And Harry had such broad shoulders and a very trim stomach along with a pert arse that was only rivaled by Draco's own. "You're gorgeous." Draco said unthinkingly, running his hand down one of Harry's lean thighs.

"Don't be stupid." Harry admonished him, tossing his clothes on the floor haphazardly and taking his glasses off. The Slytherin rolled so he was pressed against the other boy. Harry's body warmth soaked into him, making him wiggle his toes in pleasure.

Draco scoffed. "You're the one who's being stupid if you haven't realized by now you're bloody handsome. You think I'd have anything to do with you if you weren't?"  


Harry rolled his eyes, but finally relented. "I guess not." Draco pressed a sloppy kiss to his stomach, enjoying the play of his lips on Harry's salty skin. He traced his tongue over the ripples of Harry's abs, mouthing his way up to Harry's nipple and biting firmly on it while he flicked at it with his tongue. "Mmmm…" Harry murmured, arching into him. 

Draco abandoned the other boy's chest in favor of tilting his face upwards for a kiss and the Gryffindor took the hint, cupping his face and kissing him as if he was the only thing that mattered. With his hands tangled in Harry's messy mop of hair, the Slytherin moved so he was lying half on top of Harry as their mouths stayed meshed together while they kissed. Harry's arms were loosely wrapped around Draco and the Gryffindor wiggled so they were rubbing their erections together in a way that was absolute perfection. Harry pulled back and though his lips were still parted from the kiss his eyes were smiling and Draco suddenly realized that Harry trusted him. And that he'd do anything to keep that trust. "Pretty, pretty Gryffindor." He whispered, just because he could and Harry blushed a little and the compliment.

The slender blonde felt a surge of emotion and pulled back to feather Harry's face with light kisses, just because he could. Feeling whimsical, he placed a little kiss right on the tip of the other boy's nose and smiled at Harry's bemusement. "Well, you're in a good mood."

The Slytherin moved his hips in a little circle, bumping Harry's cock with his own in an oddly friendly manner. "Any reason why I shouldn't be? I'm so going to fuck you." He laughed delightedly at the thought, nuzzling Harry's neck reverently.

"Does it… does it hurt?" Harry asked, trying for an offhand tone, but he ended up sounding a little hesitant. 

Draco tamped down his elation, smiling at the other boy reassuringly. "No. I mean, at first it twinges a little, but as long as you're relaxed it's great." He rubbed Harry's back soothingly, stroking the soft skin. "I'll go slow, I promise."  


"Yeah, okay." Harry nodded, taking a deep breath to fortify himself. "Can we just sort of get to it? I mean, foreplay's nice and all, but all this waiting is making me more nervous."  


The Slytherin rummaged in the bedside table and found the oil quickly. He pushed Harry down flat on the bed and slipped between the dark haired boy's legs. Still smiling at Harry reassuringly, he poured a little out to coat his fingers with and set the bottle aside. "You know I usually do this when I jerk off right? So it can't be too bad."

The Gryffindor seemed to relax a little and his smile was positively mischievous. "Maybe you're just a freak, hmm?"

Draco smirked and let his fingers brush against Harry's entrance, just letting them rub lightly without penetrating. "Maybe. But you're the one in a relationship with me, so what does that say about you?"  


"That I've got bad taste?" Harry said, his voice going up an octave on the last syllable when Draco slipped a finger inside him. 

"Weasley might agree, but in my opinion it means you've got exquisite taste."  


Harry shifted his hips and made a face. "Okay, rule number one. Don't talk about Ron while you've got your finger up my arse. It's just. Wrong." 

"Duly noted." The blonde snickered, adding another finger and gently probing Harry as he talked. The familiar banter seemed to relax him so Draco obliged, offering the other boy something to concentrate on beyond what he was doing to his arse. "Mmm. You feel nice. Warm and tight. Can't wait to be inside you."

Harry's breath hitched a little and he licked his lips. "You're such a pervert. Oh!" He said in surprise, lifting his hips. "Do that again!" Draco twisted his fingers, pressing firmly against Harry's prostate.

"Demanding, aren't you? And you call me a pervert."  


"Just - oh. Don't stop!" 

The Slytherin was grinning from ear to ear, listening to the other boy's pleas as he prepared him. And yes, it wasn't very nice of him, but he felt a little thrill at the thought of taking the Boy Who Lived. All that power, all that heroic righteousness was being blown away by passion. It was enough to make him rub himself unthinkingly against Harry's calf. "Do you want me Harry?"

"God, yes." Harry panted out, his hair even more tousled than usual. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright with lust. 

"Say it." Draco ordered him, slipping another finger inside him. The Gryffindor made a little choked noise and raised his hips even higher, almost begging for it with his body language.

"Please, I want you Draco!"   


The blonde's breathing was ragged and he had to force himself to stay in control when he coating his length in the oil. Then he was pushing Harry's legs open and wrapping them around his waist, pushing forward. It would have been easier to take him from behind, but Draco had no doubts that the other boy wanted to be able to look into his face while they had sex. He had to go slowly, sliding inside in tiny increments until his erection was all the way inside. It was maddening forcing himself to be so patient, but at the same time utterly satisfying to be doing it at all.

"Alright, Harry?" He asked, almost overcome at the sensation of being _inside_ Harry. He couldn't get any closer to the other boy than this and the thought was so enticing it took every bit of his self control not to start mindlessly thrusting inside the Gryffindor. Merlin, he was perfect and he was all _Draco's_. It really didn't get any better than this, that he was sure of.

"Yeah. Just - wait a second." Harry's voice was strained and they stayed frozen for a long moment as the dark haired boy adjusted to this new situation. "Okay. Okay, I'm good." Draco closed his eyes for a moment to savor the sensation and then he moved his hips experimentally, thrusting in and out of Harry slowly. 

Draco lowered himself so he was supporting his weight on his hands and began to fuck in earnerst, judging which angle, speed, and depth was best by Harry's reactions. The Gryffindor was beautifully responsive, arching up to meet his every thrust. It was intense and wonderful, being inside Harry like that and wringing moans from him with each movement. The Gryffindor had thrown his head back, exposing the vulnerable line of his neck and Draco dipped his head down to lap deftly at it. Harry's moan of delight vibrated against his lips and the Slytherin couldn't help but smile at the sensation.

"Mmm. Like that? How about this?" Draco asked, thrusting inside the other boy a bit faster. The sound of skin slapping against skin as well as their mingled panting filled the room.

"Just - god. Harder!" The Slytherin complied, pushing his hips forward with more force.

"Better?" He asked breathlessly.

Harry made a little sound of agreement and began to rub his erection against Draco's taut stomach, smearing precum on the Slytherin. Draco didn't mind and in fact found it quite arousing having proof that Harry wanted him too. "Okay?" Draco asked, fucking the other boy with long, hard strokes at a fairly fast pace. The Gryffindor's thighs were clamped around his hips and he kept digging his heels into the back of Draco's thighs eagerly. 

"God, yes!" Draco bit down lightly on Harry's throat and continued pumping himself in and out of the other boy. Harry made a choked sound and his muscles tightened up, even the internal ones. Having his cock gripped so tightly made Draco come almost immediately and they shuddered together, reaching orgasm simultaneously. Draco kept thrusting until his erection was almost completely gone and then he slid out of the other boy. The Gryffindor shivered when he withdrew. "That feels really weird."

"Yeah, I know." Draco finally managed to mumble, dropping down next to Harry. He gestured to Harry and the Gryffindor snuggled closer right away, resting his ear against Draco's chest so he could presumably hear his heart beating rapidly. The blonde sighed in satisfaction and ruffled the other boy's hair affectionately, which made the Gryffindor grin. "D'you like it?"  


"It was nice." Harry finally admitted. "Feels… strange afterwards, though. I'm all - wet." 

"Hold on." Draco said, scrabbling for his dirty nighshirt which he had left near the bed that morning in a show of laziness. "Here." He hastily cleaned them both off and tossed the shirt back to the floor. Harry laughed against Draco's chest, his mirth a bit muffled against the other boy's skin. "What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking it's a good thing Aunt Petunia makes me do my own laundry. I wouldn't want her to find _that_."  


Draco smiled slightly at the thought and contented himself with stroking the smooth skin of Harry's back. "I guess not. But it's not like she doesn't know about us." He uttered the last words absently, too busy focusing on the smooth texture of the skin beneath his hand. Harry stiffened in shock, even going so far as to hold his breath.

"What?"

"What?"

"What did you just say?" The Gryffindor asked again, sitting up to stare at Draco incredulously. 

"I said what."  


"Before that. You said she knows about us!" Harry said agitatedly, blinking rapidly and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

Draco leaned forward and kissed him softly, with just a touch of tongue before sinking back down. "Yeah. She sort of um. Walked into the room early this morning and saw us naked in bed. Together. Which was sort of self-explanatory as far as outing you goes." 

"Fuck! She'll tell Uncle Vernon!"  


"Maybe. I doubt it though." Harry eyed his lover suspiciously.

"What did you do?"

The Slytherin affected an angelic expression. "Do? Whatever makes you think I _did_ something Harry?"

"Well, for one you're trying to look innocent, which, let me tell you, is fairly disturbing on your face. So what did you do, Draco?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably under the other boy's piercing gaze. "Isortofmaybethreatenedher." Draco mumbled out hurriedly all on one breath.

"Threatened her? Now she's definitely going to tell Uncle Vernon." The Gryffindor sighed, letting his head land back on Draco's chest heavily.

"Oomph." Draco exclaimed as the sudden weight pinned him to the bed. "So, what's the big deal? He'll huff and puff a bit and let us be. He can't throw us out. I'll just hex him if he tries."  


"I guess." The Gryffindor conceded doubtfully. "Maybe their ship will sink and then we won't have to worry about it."  


Draco snickered. "Is the Great Harry Potter wishing someone dead? Shame on you!" Harry reached over and snagged the other pillow, flopping it so it hit Draco on the head lightly. The Slytherin grabbed it up and tossed it across the room. "And now you're abusing me! You great brute!"

"Oh, yeah? That wasn't abuse. _This_ is abuse, you little prat!" Draco scrambled away from the other boy's tickling fingers, giggling despite himself. 

"Harry! Stop - Oh, Merlin - stop it! Hee hee!" The Slytherin managed to gasp between helpless bouts of laughter. He twisted around and began to launch a counter attack, running his fingers over Harry's bare ribs and sending the other boy into paroxysms of laughter.

"Dra-Draco! Knock it off!" They collapsed breathlessly against each other, both boys willing to admit it was a draw. Harry snorted to himself and cuddled up against Draco, spooning behind him. "You sound like a girl when you laugh."  


The Slytherin elbowed him. "Shut up. You sound like a hyena." 

"Better than sounding like a little girl." Came Harry's smug voice. 

"Watch it, Potter, or you may never get near my delectable arse again." He threatened, loving the fact that they could banter so easily with each other. It was a throwback to their old rivalry, but now instead of vitriolic insults their barbs were gentle and meant only to poke fun, not to harm. There were worse ways to while away the hours. And time spent with Harry was always time well spent.

Harry chuckled, nuzzling against the nape of Draco's neck warmly. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

"And?" Draco questioned imperiously, wiggling his bottom a little for that bit of added enticement.  


"You don't sound like a little girl." Harry admitted and Draco could hear the smile in his voice.

"Hmph. Glad to know you've some sense."

"Yeah." There was a thoughtful pause and the Slytherin leaned back into the other boy's arms, absolutely content to be exactly where he was. "You really think their ship will go down?" Harry asked curiously, propping his chin up on Draco's shoulder.

Draco shrugged. "We can always hope."

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	7. Change of Location

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I _strongly_ recommend that you read before starting this. This is a Harry/Draco story. If you have any questions about the story or you just want to discuss something in it e-mail me. I'm always eager to hear what people think.

Warnings for this chapter: Language. Smut.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

As soon as Petunia and Vernon returned from the trip they remarked on how clean the house looked. Of course, without the help of a certain house elf it would have looked like an utter wreck thanks to Dudley's party, but since Harry would have been the one to get in trouble Draco had owled the former Malfoy house elf and asked for aid. Dobby had been deeply grateful to be asked for help and had even gone so far as to make them breakfast. It had been nice. Draco had been quite happy with it, though Harry had been a bit unsettled at Dobby's enthusiasm.

Then the Dursleys promptly moved Draco into the guest bedroom, because even though Petunia didn't want it contaminated by a wizard, she also didn't want her nephew having hot, sweaty gay sex in his room either. Draco finally submitted to their demands just to get Vernon Dursley to stop bellowing at everyone and discovered that the guest room, aside from being a bit dusty, wasn't all that bad.

Dudley had learned they were a couple during the ensuing ruckus and had taken to calling his cousin a shirt lifter as well as a few other choice names. Until Draco transfigured him into a pig for two hours, that is. After that, he studiously avoided them both and Petunia and Vernon wisely kept their own opinions about Harry's sexual preferences strictly to themselves.

The week went by fairly quickly in all honesty. The only interesting thing to have happened was that Draco and Harry exchanged furtive blow jobs in the shower, but when they tumbled outside the bathroom together in towels with conspicuously swollen lips they were frog marched to their respective bedrooms and Harry received an hour long lecture that he proceeded to ignore. 

The did manage to complete all of their summer homework however, which was probably the only positive thing to have come from being separated and free from distraction. When Sunday of the second week finally rolled around Draco was overjoyed to hear the doorbell being rung in a serious of ding-dongs that sounded suspiciously like an actual tune.

He made his way towards the door and found Harry grinning from ear to ear from where Sirius was attempting to hug the life out of him on the doorstep. "Ah, I see the family reunion is under way. It's about time you got here. Do you realize these people are insane?"

Sirius laughed. "Yeah, but it couldn't be helped. Go and get your things, boys. Remus' should be here shortly with the portkey. Then we're going home."

Harry laughed joyously and scampred up the hallway, followed quickly by Draco. It took only moments for them to pack up their belongings and drag them downstairs, they were that eager. "What's going on here?" Vernon Durlsey demanded, shuffling in from the kitchen with a dark scowl. "You! You're here to them pick up, finally? Good riddance I say! I can't wait to have them gone!"  


"The feeling is mutual, Durlsey." Draco sneered nastily, pulling his school trunk past the muggle. 

Sirius hid his laughter with a cough. "Well, I more than happy to take them off your hands. Ready to go, guys?"

Harry handed Draco the cage that held his owl and made sure Hedwig was settled. Then he turned to his godfather with a bright smile. "Yep! We're all set!" 

"Okay, then. Follow me." The trundled after the ex-convict, after a few handy levitation charms were cast to help them with their luggage. "Here we are. Moony should be apparating here any second now." They were standing in the Durlsey's back yard, free from prying eyes. "Any second, Moony." Sirius repeated, tapping his foot impatiently. Then he turned to the two boys with a smile. "So, how'd the two weeks go?"

"They were alright. Not very fun."  


"It was horrid!" Draco chimed in. "The only good thing about the whole sodding place was Harry. And possibly the fact I got to hex his relatives when they misbehaved." He added, smiling to himself at the memory of Dudley running around the house in pig-form while Petunia bawled in the living room and Vernon chased his son around the house. Harry snickered, obviously on the same wave-length. 

"It could have been worse, though." Harry chided him, shifting so that he could pet Hedwig through the bars of her cage.

Before Sirius could reply their was a loud popping sound and Remus Lupin appeared several feet away. "Sorry about that, lads. There were some technical difficulties for a moment there. Here we are, a one way portkey straight to Black Cottage. It should kick in any moment now."  


They all shuffled forward to place their hands on the broken wristwatch, huddling together while the Dursley family peered out at them curiously from their back window. Harry turned to look at them, waving goodbye with a wry grin, and the curtain was shut quickly.

Draco sighed in irritation. "When is this stupid piece of junk going to-" And then there was a slight tug right behind his navel and the world blurred for a moment.

"Start working." He finished as they all landed outside again. Harry, unused to magical means of transportation, stumbled right into Lupin who helped him right himself with a indulgent smile.

"Alright there everyone?"  


"Yes, I think we're all accounted for." Sirius said cheerily. "Come along now, hurry up!" He said, herding everyone towards the little cottage on the hill. There was green as far as the eye could see, covering rolling, jutting hills and there were even sheep on one distant hillside. The landscape was breathtaking, with fog coming in from the north and a low stone wall running off into the distance, presumably marking out which part of the land belonged to Sirius as well as setting boundaries for the numerous wards.

"Here, let me help." Lupin offered, taking both owl cages and leading the way. Sirius had transformed into a large, black dog and was bounding back and forth merrily, barking at every little thing. Harry's grin was still as wide as it had been when he'd answered the door only minutes ago. Draco couldn't help but smile at his boyish enthusiasm.

"Wow." The Gryffindor murmured, craning his neck to look all around. "Wow. This is wonderful! Where are we?"  


"Wales. The exact location is a Ministry secret, actually. It's Unplottable though, I can tell you that." The werewolf said with a wink. "And here we are. Careful, Padfoot. You don't want to knock Harry down, do you?"

"Course not." He said cheerfully, having morphed back into a man. "Do you have the keys, Moony?"

"No, you should have them."  


"Oh, right. Silly me." The ex-convict fished around in his pocket and came up with a set of keys that he used to unlock the front door. "Come in. It has two bedrooms, one bathroom, a study, a living room, and a kitchen. There's a shed out back too. It's modest, but I like it."  


"It's bloody brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, dumping his belongings next to the door. Professor Lupin stepped around his things and let Draco in, shutting the door behind them all.

"You'll have to share a room with Draco. I didn't realize we'd have a guest when I bought it. Sorry boys. Think you can deal?"

Draco smirked, but kept his comments to himself when Harry stepped on his foot in warning. "Of course, Sirius. It's no trouble at all, really."

"Good! I got you bunk beds. I thought you might like them and it saves space for the dresser." Sirius confessed, helping them gather and cart their things to the designated room.

"I've got the top bunk!" Draco called, lugging his trunk through the house.

"Hey!" The hallway was unbearably crowded for a moment while all four males sorted themselves out. Eventually, the two trunks were set against the wall and everyone was inside the room to get a look at it. It was rather nice. It was larger than Harry's old room and it had a bookshelf under the window across from the door and a dresser on the wall across from the bunkbeds. "Why should you get the top bunk?" Harry finally asked, flopping down on the bottom bed sulkily.

"Because, knowing you, you'll probably fall off and split your stupid scarred head right open. You really want to sleep that high up?" Harry, obviously recollecting his nightmares and the way he tended to thrash around during them, winced slightly.

"I guess you have a point."

"Not to mention I called it first." Draco said smugly, climbing halfway up the ladder on the end to peer at his bed. He jumped back down and smiled at them all. "It's great, Sirius. What about you and Professor Lupin?" He asked innocently, amused by the swift exchange of glances between the two men. 

"Er, well." Sirius stuttered nervously. Harry appeared to be oblivious to the undertones of the conversation, though the Slytherin suspected it was more of a convenient cover than actual obtuseness. 

"You can call me Remus, Draco. And it's fine. The bed is a fairly big one and we're both too old to sleep out on the couch." The werewolf said kindly, taking one last look around the house. "Well, now that we've got that settled, who's up for dinner?"  


"Me!" Harry shouted, his godfather's own shout only moments behind.

"ME!"  


"Honestly, what are you, children?" Draco asked, before breaking out into a grin. "I'd like some too, if you wouldn't mind."

"That's quite alright. Of course, a little help would be nice."  


"I'm afraid I've got potions work to do." Draco said swiftly, turning to open his school trunk and appear to become absorbed in searching for his books.

"Er. And I'm um - helping." Harry added, though it was obviously a lie. Lupin let him get away with it and turned to Black with raised eyebrows.

"I guess it's just you and me then."

"But, Moooony!" The Marauder whined, dogging Remus' heels as they exited the boys' room. "I don't know anything about cooking."  


"You can chop lettuce, can't you?"  


"Maybe. Or maybe I'll end up cutting myself and bleeding to death." Their voices grew muffled as they made their way into the kitchen and Draco abandoned his supposed search to grin at Harry. 

"So what do you think?"

"I think this is going to be great!" Harry exclaimed, leaning forward to kiss Draco deeply. The Slytherin found himself being pushed against the wall while the other boy ravished his mouth and he took just a moment to discover that he agreed heartily with Harry's sentiments. Harry reached around to grab Draco's arse as they kissed, pulling the Slytherin against his body while their tongues slid slickly against one another in the confines of Draco's mouth.

The rest of the summer was _definitely _going to be great.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	8. The great outdoors

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I _strongly_ recommend that you read before starting this. No, really. Please, please read that first. This chapter was written fairly fast, so if you find any typos let me know.

Warnings for this chapter: Language. Smut.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

They made out against the wall for about half an hour, simply kissing and taking pleasure in each other's company and bodies. It was harmless snogging, but it was thoroughly enjoyable. Draco especially liked the way Harry tended to nibble on his ear and how firm the other boy's back was underneath his hands. Their impromptu make out session was interrupted when Remus called them into the kitchen to eat. 

Draco stopped to make sure his clothes were in order and discovered that Harry, who had already left as soon as Remus had said the word food, had left a vivid red mark on his neck. The Slytherin grinned and exposed his neck, peering at it in the mirror. Shrugging, he made his way towards the kitchen, with his glaringly obvious hickey almost glowing against the pale white ivory of his skin. Sirius and Remus had the grace not to mention it, though Sirius did stare a bit before the werewolf elbowed him. 

Dinner was a quick affair, though the salad and lightly grilled steaks were quite good. Draco wasn't sure where he had picked up culinary skills, but Remus was quite the accomplished chef. After the meal, they all migrated towards the living room and Draco found himself sitting on the floor near Harry's feet with his back against the couch, his own feet stretched out so they were warmed by the fire. He wiggled his toasty toes and leaned his head against Harry's knee, letting the hum of conversation lull him into a contented doze.

Halfway through the conversation, Harry reached down and began combing his fingers through Draco's hair, absently petting the Slytherin and Draco melted a little against his leg, almost purring at the visceral pleasure of the caresses. His eyelids lowered slightly as he submitted to Harry's attentions, but that didn't mean he missed Remus' rolled eyes or Sirius smirk and Harry was too busy chattering on about Puddlemere United's defensive players to notice what his own hand was doing at the moment. 

"…now that they've lost Chapman. I mean, they're good and everything, but they've lost their Keeper and their reserve isn't as seasoned. Oliver's good, of course, but he's still green. And the Cannons were out the running a long time ago, which Ron was pretty upset about, let me tell you."

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, and they used to be such a good team, too. I can't even remember the last time they won a game."

The professor cleared his throat, looking up from the book he had been reading. Their chatter had obviously been distracting him away from the text. "Why don't you and Draco go flying? Get a feel for the countryside and all that. I know you have to be curious about it, Harry."  


"Well, now that you mention I am. At least a little."  


"Just don't fly too far and try not to bother our neighbors. The Cadwalladers are nice people, but they tend to keep to themselves. And try not to bother their sheep or Mr. Cadwallader'll have my hide."  


Draco opened one eye fully to look at the other wizards. "I'd wondered where they came from. C'mon on Harry. I'll even let you ride my broomstick." Harry kicked him lightly in the side and promptly turned a brilliant shade of red.

"_Draco_!" The Slytherin wondered if he'd ever get tired of hearing that scandalized tone of voice and privately doubted it. It was just so fun to yank Harry's chain.

"What? Don't you want to fly on my Quicksilver?" He asked innocently, keeping the wicked smirk of his face only through sheer will while Sirius snickered at them both.

"Oh. Just - um. Let's go." Harry stood and helped the other boy to his feet. It only took a second for Draco to get his broom and they trooped outside with Sirius' advice ringing in their ears. "Don't fly too high or you'll hit the wards and watch out for the weather! It rains a lot here. And oh! Watch out for-" The door shut behind them, cutting off the rest of Sirius' speech.

"It seems your godfather is a mother hen, Harry." Draco said conversationally, squinting up at the sky to judge the weather.

"Yeah, well. He just wants to make sure I'm safe. Can you really blame him?"  


Draco smirked. "With your predilection for constantly getting into trouble? Not at all. I'm surprised he hasn't put you on a leash."

"Ooh. Kinky." Harry teased as they walked around back, their footsteps muffled in the grass. There actually was a shed in the back yard, but it appeared to be abandoned. Draco had brief thoughts of setting up a laboratory in there and styling himself an amateur Potions Master when the Gryffindor's voice broke into his reverie. "So, are we going to fly, or what?"  


"Yes, of course. You are aware that the Quicksilver model only responds to its owner, aren't you? We'll have to double up or it'll buck you off."

Harry sighed. "Alright then."

"Up." Draco straddled the floating broomstick and motioned for Harry to get on behind him. The Gryffindor Seeker made a brief face before sliding behind him and wrapping his arms around Draco's waist. "Ready?" 

"As I'll ever be. Try not to kill me?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." And then they were off, zooming into the air and curving around so they were headed towards the rocky hillside where the sheep grazed placidly. Harry was a warm, anchor against his back and the breeze ruffled his white oxford shirt as they cut through the air cleanly, dipping down to skim over hills and arching back up again.

Harry leaned forward to speak loudly in his ear, aware the wind might make hearing him difficult. "It's great! Really smooth flying!"

"I know!" Draco shouted back with smug glee, doing a little corkscrew that had Harry clinging to him like a limpet. Flying your own broomstick was one thing, but riding on someone else's was an entirely different experience, Draco knew. His own father had taken him on a few flights when he had been too little to fly by himself. He pushed the thought away firmly, unwilling to dwell on it.

For the most part, their flight was a silent one, though of course the whistle of the wind past their ears was always there. Draco restrained himself quite well; He only dive-bombed the sheep once. He was careful never to fly outside the boundary of the wards and after a while Harry settled against him, which was an unexpected show of trust in Draco's flying abilities. Most Quidditch players had trouble going double on a broomstick, mainly because they spent all their time wishing they were in control instead of the other person and were constantly second-guessing whoever was guiding the broom. 

Draco spotted a steep, grassy hill that looked welcoming and veered towards it, doing a small loop before pulling down even with the ground. Harry loosed his hold on Draco's waist and dismounted quickly. Draco was swift to follow, setting his beloved Quicksilver aside carefully. The countryside spread out below them, a vista of incredibly green hills and valleys. Harry had propped himself up against a small, wizened tree and was looking down across the land pensively. Draco wormed himself between Harry's legs and sat so that his back was flush against the other boy's chest.

The Gryffindor laughed softly at the way his boyfriend had taken to treating him like some odd piece of furniture and set his chin on the top of Draco's head. Displeased of this reminder of how much taller Harry had grown over the summer, Draco moved his head so that it was resting against Harry's shoulder and the other boy was forced to lean his own head back against the trunk of the tree once more. Of course, height envy wasn't the only reason he'd moved. Harry's chin was really bony.

"It's pretty isn't it?" Harry asked quietly, wrapping his arms around Draco again and settling the other boy more comfortably against his body. 

"If you like that sort of thing." The Slytherin said it in an offhand manner, but truthfully he thought it was rather enchanting too. 

"Mmmhmm." The dark haired boy pressed a swift kiss to Draco's head, obviously just doing it on impulse.

"Sirius and Remus know, don't they?" Draco finally asked, ending the comfortable silence between them. He knew, without looking, that Harry had that little furrow between his eyebrows.

"Know what?"  


"That we're together."  


Harry shifted, obviously uncomfortable. He stopped when Draco poked him in the side in warning. "I guess. I mean, yeah they do. We don't talk about it though. Sort of a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. It's better that way. Less embarrassing."

"But Sirius gave you the sex talk right? At least, you said as much our first time."  


Harry laughed. "That's sort of why we have the 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. We were both so humiliated by the whole ordeal I think it's scarred us for life. Plus, as long as we both pretend there's nothing to talk about he doesn't have to interfere. I think he just wants to pretend we aren't having sex at all and I'm not about to make him stop deluding himself. I mean, I don't want to think about him and Remus having sex either so it's a fair trade."  


"So you do know about that." The Slytherin mused. "I knew no one could possibly be _that _oblivious. I've been curious about that for a while now."

"Well, mystery solved then."

Draco laughed suddenly. "Black Cottage, hm? Maybe we should just rename it Poof Cottage and get it over with." Harry snickered along with him.

"Somehow I don't think it has quite the same ring to it."

"It's apt enough though."

"I like the cottage. It's sort of cozy, but not crowded like the Burrow. Though the Burrow has its own sort of charm."  


"What sort of charm would that be? The impoverished kind? Ouch!" Draco rubbed his side and twisted around to glare at the other boy. "Watch your elbow."

"Don't talk about the Weasleys like that. For a long time they were the only family I had."  


"Sorry." The Slytherin finally offered, perturbed at having offended Harry. "It's habit." He confessed, leaning back against the other boy. "Sometimes I don't even know what's going to come out of my mouth next."

Harry sighed slightly, his breath ruffling the blonde's hair. "It's okay. Just try to keep a lid on it, please. At least around me and my friends."  


"I'll try. I can't promise anything, but I won't do it deliberately anymore. And in turn I expect all ferret jokes to be forgotten." Draco said sternly. He was none too fond of his memories as a ferret and any mention of the incident tended to greatly irritate him.  


"Deal." 

"So when _are _you going to tell Weasley about us?" Draco asked curiously, tilting his head up to examine a passing cloud that vaguely resembled a house elf.

"This summer. I figured since Mrs. Weasley invited you over I'd let him spend some time with you and find out you're not all that bad. Then, right before we leave, I'll tell him. That way he can't try and beat your face in because we'll already be gone."

"That's… reassuring." Draco said faintly. _Beat my face in_? He thought silently, not at all looking forward to the upcoming visit.

Harry's arms tightened around him comfortingly. "I won't let that happen, don't worry."

"You better not. I'd hate to have to hex off his nose." Draco paused. "No, that's a lie. I really wouldn't hate it."

"I expected as much. You're such a git."  


Draco turned around, straddling Harry's lap and giving the other boy a steady, seductive look. "Ah, but I'm an incredibly sexy git who shags you on a regular basis. You mustn't forget that."

Harry smiled wryly. "I don't think it'll slip my mind any time soon. You arrogant sod."  


"Wanker."

"Slut." The Gryffindor chimed in with a grin.

Draco ground his erection down onto Harry's lap, making the dark haired boy gasp with surprise and arousal. "Only for you." He said in a low, rough voice, leaning forward to suck on Harry's neck and tp nibble on his earlobe a bit.

"Should we really be, mmm, right there - be doing this outside?"  


"What? Afraid the sheep will get off on it?" Draco asked incredulously, pausing for a moment to sit back and stare at the other boy questioningly.

The dark haired boy grinned abashedly. "Okay, you've got a point there. And keep doing that." He demanded, bucking his hips up a little.

"Mmm. I do aim to please. Anything else you want while I'm at it?"  


"Er…" Harry's eyes glazed over as he undoubtedly began thinking of all the things he'd like to do with the handsome blonde. "I dunno. Depends on how flexible you are." He added with a cheeky grin.

"Flexible enough to suck my own cock. Well, with a contortionist charm at least." The Gryffindor's jaw dropped open.

"Suck your own what? _What_? You can really _do_ that?" Harry asked, utterly astounded.

The Slytherin smirked. "Well, you have to admit I'm brilliant as sucking cock. Didn't you ever wonder who I'd been practicing on?"  


"Huh. That's quite… intriguing, even though I should probably be calling you a pervert right about now, though that goes without saying really. Still, that's pretty damn flexible, even if it is only because of a charm."

"So? I'm doing requests here. You wouldn't want to waste your opportunity." Draco reminded him, rocking his hips against Harry's. Grinding slowly against the other boy made a delicious tingle go up his spine and if the way Harry's mouth was parted slightly as he breathed unevenly was any indication, he wasn't the only one feeling it.

"Er… this is nice." Harry said lamely, his adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed at the way Draco started rotating his hips in a little circle. 

The Slytherin grimaced. "I'm not messing up my pants, even for a mind-blowing orgasm. And take your glasses off so I can kiss you properly."  


"Sorry." He carefully set his spectacles out of the way, blinking in an owlish manner for a moment as his eyesight adjusted. "Better?" Draco smiled, pleased to see Harry's brilliantly green eyes unshielded for once. They really were quite lovely, with streaks of lighter green throughout and a darker ring of emerald around the edge. He leaned forward to steal a kiss, moaning softly into Harry's mouth when the other boy responded, stroking his tongue against Draco's. The Slytherin pulled back, unwilling to get too caught up in the kiss when there were still things to take care of.  


"Much better. Do we happen to have anything we could use as lube?"

"Er. I don't think so."

"Okay then. We'll make our own." Draco smirked, unbuttoning his trousers. "Just let me come and then we'll use that for lube and you can do me." He shivered at the thought, his cock almost aching from anticipating. "Mmm. I have a sudden urge for a nice, hard fuck."

"Sounds good to me." Said Harry, as easy to please as ever. 

Draco leaned in, brushing his lips against Harry's lightly and swiping his tongue along the other boy's bottom lip. The Gryffindor didn't stand for the teasing for long and captured Draco's mouth with his own, dominating it in a way that made Draco give in and slump against him. His hand wormed its way into the Slytherin's pants and he wrapped his hand around the other boy's cock, pumping skillfully. Draco made a little noise in the back of his throat and twisted his hips so he was fucking Harry's fist, loosing himself in the pleasure of it all.

It was hot and hurried, Harry's slightly sweaty hand stroking him to completion. Draco somehow managed to work his pants down to his knees, exposing his erect cock, the sweet curve of his ass, and the lean line of his thighs. His concentration broken, he abandoned all attempts at kissing and tucked his head into the curve of Harry's neck and just held on, too overwhelmed to do anything else. And then the dark haired boy was speeding up his rhythm and Draco was coming, his mouth slack and his eyes shut tightly while his orgasm washed over him.

Seeker-quick reflexes made sure Harry caught most of his come and then it was only a matter of rushed preparation while they simmered with frustrated lust. The Gryffindor's fingers were invading him, stretching him and filling him and it was so good, but at the same time not quite enough. When Harry was finished and the fingers disappeared Draco made his displeasure known by biting down on the other boy's collar. "Just - bugger. Hold on a second, Draco." Harry was fumbling at his fly and while he busied himself with that the Slytherin took the time to removed his footwear and trousers, unbuttoning his own shirt quickly and shrugging it off his shoulders. And okay, being naked outside wasn't exactly pleasant, but once he was riding that luscious cock he doubted he'd care one way or another.

"Hurry." He demanded, attempting to rub his arms to banish the goose-bumps that had blossomed on his skin. 

"I _am_." Harry protested. "Okay, almost done." As soon as his erection had sprung free Draco bent down and sucked it into his mouth, making sure to coat it liberally with saliva. Harry made a strangled sound and moved his hand as if to grab onto the other boy's hair. Draco promptly caught his wrist, pulling off his cock with a slurping pop. 

"Watch it. You don't even want to know what I would do to you if you put that in my hair." The Slytherin said darkly. Harry's fingers were still wet with semen and luckily for him Draco had remembered that just in time. The last time someone had tampered with his hair gel in fifth year the enraged Malfoy heir had stripped them down, tied them to a Quidditch goal post, and left them to freeze overnight.

"Sorry." The Gryffindor said meekly, coating his length in the left over moisture. "Okay, ready?" 

"Yes, yes, yes. Finally!" He chanted, straddling Harry's lap and sinking down on his cock. Even with the impromptu lube there was a bit more friction than usual, but at this point Draco was almost frantic with impatience and he didn't have time to worry about such trivial things. Harry's hands clutched at his hips, guiding him carefully. Draco moaned softly for a long moment, his head rolling back as he savored the position. It felt like the other boy was so far inside him he'd never be able to leave again.

"Alright?" Harry asked breathlessly, frozen for the moment as he waited for his lover's go-ahead. 

"Never better." 

And then they were fucking, hard, fast, and furiously. Grunting and gasping together as Draco rode Harry's cock, his thigh muscles bunched from the strain and his toned stomach rippling with each movement. Harry was grabbing at his arse and helping him hoist himself up and down on his cock and, dear Merlin, Draco doubted anything had ever felt better. The Gryffindor was still dressed, while Draco was utterly naked and the breeze brushing past his bare shoulders was oddly erotic. Not to mention the way his nipples were being rubbed almost raw by the weave of Harry's shirt and the extra bit of added sensation was absolutely perfect.

Harry groped his way down Draco's body, grasping his half-hard cock and jerking him off once more. Still sensitive from his last orgasm, the Slytherin was wracked with full body shivers, but wasn't quite far enough along to come again. He was gasping against Harry's neck, whimpering and mewling, his hips moving rapidly while he fucked himself on the other boy's erection. He had no idea how the Gryffindor could manage such self-control, because from the way Harry was hissing between his teeth at every thrust he was definitely on the edge.

Draco tightened his internal muscles around Harry's cock, coming with a loud cry that was muffled against the other boy's skin. Harry quickly followed him, groaning and bucking up a few times as he emptied himself into the blonde. And then they collapsed back down together in a boneless heap, panting heavily as they attempted to gather their wits.

"Grphmunkle?" Draco asked in a garbled jumble of nonsense words.

"Bah."

"Mmm." And that was the extent of their post-coital conversation. 

Finally, after several minutes that seemed like forever, Draco propped himself up on his elbows and peered down into Harry's face. Bright green eyes blinked up at him a few times and he leaned down to kiss the other boy languidly. He broke it off with a sigh and laid his cheek against the Gryffindor's clothed chest. "We've got you-know-what all over us." Harry muttered absently, wiping at a bit of dripping moisture on Draco's chin. And really, talk about long distance shots.

Draco giggled, still a bit out of it from the orgasm. His hair was rumpled from both the breeze and sheer exertion and he knew he probably resembled some sort of crazed dandelion with his head of silver fluff. Harry smiled up at him with a smitten sort of look, his eyes warm and his mouth quirking upward on one side in a way that made his lips look utterly kissable.

A sheep wandered by, pausing to give them what Draco could have sworn was an amused look. He glared at it briefly and it returned to mingle with its flock, still chewing away on the grass. "Ready to go back?" He asked, having no desire whatsoever to be ogled by livestock.

"Yeah. Just - hold on." And then he was pushing Draco down and lapping up the wetness that covered his stomach. Draco's hips lifted involuntarily, but his cock was out of order for the moment, no matter how skillfully the other boy's tongue was being dragged over his stomach. 

"Harry." He half-whined, half-whimpered when the tongue finally reached his cock and started licking at it thoughtfully.

"Mmm?"

"Don't - oh! Just.. Right there… ooh." He mumbled, all sense of diction leaking right out his ears.

Once Draco's stomach was clean, Harry leaned over him for another kiss. Draco couldn't resist tangling his finger's in the other boy's spiky hair, savoring the exchange of lazy, come-slick kisses that managed to distract them for the next fifteen minutes. When he started shivering from cold, Draco finally dragged himself away from Harry's mouth. 

"Um. Clothes?"

"Here." 

"Thanks." He dressed quickly, tugging on his clothes and smoothing them down in an attempt to make himself look presentable. Harry tucked himself away and zipped up his pants, rubbing at a not-so-mysterious wet spot that had appeared on the front of his shirt. "One look at us and they'll know exactly what we've been doing." Draco announced, still trying to tame his unusually tousled locks.

"Ah." Harry said with a smile, giving his shirt up as a lost cause. "That's the beauty of the 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. We may look like we've been fucking like rabbits, but they can't call us on it."

"And visa versa." Draco reminded him, standing up. He felt the ache of well used muscles from their little romp and was unable to hide his grin. He'd be feeling that for a while, but in his opinion having a constant reminder of such good sex wasn't exactly a bad thing.

Harry grimaced, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in a way Draco found adorable. "Okay, ew."  


Draco laughed and bent to pick up his Quicksilver, mounting it carefully. "Well, c'mon. We should get back. It's almost dark. And at the very least the expressions on their faces when they see us will be priceless."  


"You, Draco Malfoy, are one sick fuck."  


"Why, thank you." The Slytherin said, pretending to blush. "Flattery will get you everywhere."  


Harry slid behind him, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. They took off, quickly soaring southwards. The Gryffindor pressed his mouth close to the other boy's ears as he talked. "What do we do if Sirius asks us what we've been doing? He'll accept our excuses, but we at least need to come up with something."  


Draco grinned. "Tell him the truth! I took you for a ride on your broomstick and then you took me for a ride on yours." Harry bit down on his ear in retaliation.

Their laughter echoed merrily over the valley, making the sheep look up briefly from their grazing and flushing a few birds from the trees.

Back at Black Cottage, Remus was flipping through his book while Sirius tried his hand at whittling. "It's been two hours. What do you think they've been up to?" He asked absently, trying to get the muzzle on his little wooden wolf right.

Remus looked up and smiled wryly. "I have a feeling we don't want to know the answer to that."

And what do you know, he was right.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	9. Dream or Nightmare?

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I _strongly_ recommend that you read before starting this. No, really. Please, please read that first. And this is a Draco/Harry story, which should be fairly obvious by now. ^_^ There's some more Author Notes at the end of the chapter too.

Warnings for this chapter: Language. Smut.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

Draco wasn't a light sleeper, but he wasn't a heavy one either. Not like Goyle at any rate, who could sleep through a banshee's shrieking. However, a week or so sleeping next to Harry at Privet Drive had conditioned him to wake up at any signs of an approaching nightmare. Harry had only had a vision from Voldemort the once, but he'd also had a few nightmares, most of them involving Cedric Diggory's death. Usually, Draco woke him up during them and cuddled with him afterwards, the three or so times it had happened. Unfortunately, once he'd been moved into the guest room Draco hadn't been able to help with them anymore, but now that they were inhabiting the same room again, Draco automatically started sleeping more lightly.

So when he heard the other boy startle awake with a horrified gasp, he jolted into consciousness immediately. He had forgone the top bunk in favor of cuddling with Harry and though it was tight fit neither boy minded being in such close quarters with the other. Curled around the Gryffindor's back, Draco tightened his arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. "Harry?"

"Oh. My. God." Harry said in shell-shocked tones. "Holy shit. I cannot believe I just-" And then he shuddered with disgust.

Draco was beginning to become alarmed. "Harry, are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?"

The house was quiet except for their whispers and aside from the soft glow of moonlight illuminating a square on the floor it was dark. "You could say that. Eurgh. Ew. Yuck."  


"What was it about?" Draco asked curiously. Harry turned around, his limbs catching on Draco's for a moment before they sorted themselves out. Their conversation was a soft spoken one, intimate in the darkness.

"I just. Oh god, I don't think I can even say it. I um. Had a dream and um."  


Draco felt something nudge against his stomach and his eyebrows flew up in surprise. He reached down to fondle Harry's erection. "A dream, hm? I can tell what sort of dream. But you're acting like it was awful." He didn't stop rubbing at the other boy's cock and Harry didn't ask him to, merely leaning into the almost affectionate, leisurely strokes.

"It was um." The Gryffindor took a deep breath and when he spoke it was so quietly that Draco almost didn't catch it. "Siriuswasinit."

"Sirius was in it?" Draco repeated, feeling laughter bubble up in his chest. He settled for a silent snicker that shook his shoulders. "That is the funniest thing I've ever heard. What happened in it?"  


"Shut up, Draco. It's gross. I mean, he's my father figure."  


"Sometimes sex dreams aren't about sex at all. You should know that, you're in Divinations aren't you?"

"Well, yeah. But still, gross."

"So what happened?" Draco persisted, his curiosity getting the better of him. He wasn't jealous, far from it. The whole situation was terribly amusing, especially with Harry's reactions added into the mix.

Harry mumbled out, "Gave 'em a blow job."

The Slytherin smirked, still stroking the other boy at an even pace. Harry's hips had started pushing forward a little, Draco's fingers sliding slickly over his sensitive flesh as they talked. "Would it make you feel better if I told you I had a wet dream with Snape in it once."  


"Oh god no. It makes me feel sick to my stomach though." Harry shuddered, his erection becoming a bit softer. Draco, displeased his toy wasn't cooperating, sped up his strokes.

"Well, honestly, you were fucking me over his desk and he was just critiquing your style. While the class watched I might add. I was very disgruntled when I woke up that morning. In fact, I think that was the day I was rewarded for Wormtail's capture. You kept grinning at me during Dumbledore's speech and I had the biggest boner ever at the breakfast table."  


Harry laughed, obviously entertained at this stroll down memory lane. "Really?"

"Really." He affirmed. "Have you ever had any dreams about me?"

"Lots." Harry admitted softly. "Especially the after the first time we kissed and stuff. I think I wanked off so much that week my hand cramped up."

The Slytherin burst into laughter, leaning forward to press his face against Harry's shoulder so he wouldn't be too loud. "Christmas. I wanked off thinking about you, finger-fucked myself for the first time actually, and I could barely look at you over the table. It was so embarrassing."

"Nice to know you _do_ get embarrassed. I'd hate to be the only one." Harry teased. By this time Draco was only holding the other boy's cock in a loose grip, not actually jerking him off. The Slytherin reached back to cup his balls, rolling them in his hand. "You know, I've been thinking about our trip to the Burrow." Harry finally said after a moment of silence. 

"And?"

"I was thinking… that well. If you promise to be on your best behavior I'll do whatever you want in bed the night before we leave."  


Draco's hand froze and Harry nudged his hips forward, a silent reproach that he'd stopped, no matter how briefly. He automatically started stroking Harry's cock again, his mind elsewhere. His fingers moved nimbly over the other boy's erection, soaked with pre-cum as he cleverly manipulating his foreskin. "So, I get to perform the sex act of my choice with you and in return I have to play nice with the other children?" He asked, just to clarify it.

"Pretty much."

"Any sex act? No matter how depraved or disgusting you think it is?" Draco asked, just to be sure.

"Well…", Harry said hesitantly. "I hesitate to say this, but yeah. Unless it involves children, animals, or dead bodies." He amended quickly. "Or dresses." He tacked on as an afterthought.

"I'm not too interested in any of those things anyway, Harry. And I'm so glad to hear you think I might be, though." Draco said sarcastically.

"No, no. I don't think you'd really want to but I was just making sure. You were making me nervous with that 'no matter how depraved' line."

Draco could see how that might happen. "Well, no worries there. I'll think of something." And then he scooted down and pulled Harry's pajama bottoms down his trim thighs, letting the head of the other boy's cock slide into his mouth to rest heavily on his tongue. He sucked on it lightly and let it slip back out of his mouth, running the head of it over his closed lips. Draco teased at it with his tongue, not even keeping it in his mouth. Then he blew on it lightly, earning a soft moan from the other boy. Taking pity on him, he got down to business. It only took a few sucks and some tongue movement to push Harry over the edge, mostly because he'd been teasing him for some time and Harry _had _woken up from an erotic dream. He swallowed and pulled off, eager to have Harry return the favor.

"And now it's my turn, Mr. Potter." Silence. Harry didn't even move to pull up his pajama bottoms. "Harry?" Draco tried again.

His only response was the Gryffindor's light snores.

To Be Continued…

A/N: Just so you know, the subconscious is a funny thing and no, there will be no Harry/Sirius, because 1) They're both in relationships already and 2) Sirius wouldn't abuse his position as Harry's guardian like that. Plus, there's the ew factor. Just thought I'd head that off. That's pretty much it. I'm sort of wishy-washy about this chapter, but here it is anyway. Tell me what you think.

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	10. Sulking and surprise visits

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I _strongly_ recommend that you read before starting this. No, really. Please, please read that first. There are two scenes in this chapter, just so you know. A character makes an appearance at Black Cottage and plans are made! Go read it, already!

Warnings for this chapter: Language. 

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

The first thing Draco did the next day was claim the shed as his impromptu potions laboratory, appropriating Harry's cauldron and setting it up with his own on the long workbench that stretched down the whole left side of the small building. He skipped breakfast entirely, giving Harry the cold shoulder as he walked outside, scowling darkly at him. Draco spent the morning transferring the sheaves of loose parchment and numerous scrolls that served as his notes to the shed along with his lab rat Mortimer, who had been cowering in his school trunk in hopes that Draco's owl wouldn't eat him. 

Sirius and Remus didn't seem to mind that the Slytherin had made himself at home in the least. In fact, Remus was aware that Draco had helped prepare the wolfsbane potion a time or two and he even went so far as to encourage Draco to further his potion making skills. By owling Mr. Jigger, Draco was able to purchase the necessary ingredients for his research, which he set up alphabetically on the shelves in the back.

Harry seemed a bit intimidated by Draco's workshop, wrinkling his nose up at the odd smells that had begun to emanate from the little wooden building and refusing to step foot inside it even though he was eager to reconcile with Draco. He loitered outside for a minute or two, watching Draco arrange the shed to his liking before he wandered off again reluctantly. The blonde could understand his hesitation; Harry had a distinct aversion to anything even remotely related to Severus Snape. 

Well, aside from the Potions Master's prize pupil of course.

Draco was working on a potion to make the voice very high pitched and he had several other concoctions in mind that would be easy to make when the time came. In theory, at least. In practice, he would probably be slaving in front of a boiling cauldron for blocks of hours at a time attempting to get his potions perfect.

At the moment, he was barricading himself inside his laboratory, mostly in protest of his shoddy treatment last night. Honestly, was it that hard to stay awake for a bloody minute or two? Draco had to think that over, because surely he was selling himself short there. Okay, five minutes. That wasn't too much to ask and it was only fair to give as good as you got. 

Harry seemed to realize the Slytherin was sulking and had left him to it. The Gryffindor sent uncertain glances his way for the rest of the morning whenever Draco entered the house on various errands. Mostly, Draco had ventured inside to fetch items necessary for his research that had slipped his mind until the last minute. Still upset, Draco had countered the other boy's glances with frosty silence. Sirius and Remus only exchanged long suffering looks at their teenage antics and went about their own business. 

Surprisingly, the ex-convict was actually very busy, though Draco wasn't quite certain with what. The Slytherin shrugged it off as stuff for Dumbledore and kept his curiosity under control, because frankly he was quite busy enough without poking his nose into anyone else's business. 

Plus, it was much more fun to make little pouty faces that he knew made Harry feel every inch the cad he was. He reemerged from his lab at noon to partake of lunch, which mostly consisted of sandwiches and a light chicken broth, giving the other boy the silent treatment the whole entire time, while pointedly making polite conversation with Lupin and Black. It was driving Harry spare and Draco had to work extra hard to keep a smile off his face at the frustrated, slightly guilty looks the Gryffindor persisted in throwing his way every other minute. The majority of Draco's indignance had faded due to his utter fascination with his current potions project. He kept up the charade anyway. It was the principal of the thing after all.

Finally, Remus got fed up with the whole situation and shooed them out of the kitchen together, asking Sirius to help him clean up and leaving the boys to talk amongst themselves. Draco brushed crumbs off the front of his robe and turned without a word for the door. "Draco!"  


"Yes?" He inquired with stiff politeness, not even bothering to turn around.

"I - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you like that last night. I was just so bloody sleepy. Forgive me?" Harry sounded so apologetic and hopeful there was no way he felt anything but sincerely sorry.  


Draco turned smoothly, the hem of his robes swishing around his ankles. He raised one eyebrow as he spoke. "I accept your apology." The corner of his mouth tugged up into a wicked smirk. "But don't think I'll forget it. Just remember, payback's a bitch Potter and I still get to ask you for _anything_ I want." He sauntered out, satisfied at having the last word, while Harry watched him leave.

He caught the other boy's last apprehensive words before the door shut. "Why do I get the feeling I'm in for it?"

Draco laughed to himself as he strolled out to the shed with a jaunty little bounce in his step. "Oh, Harry, Harry. You have no idea."

*

"Two cups of a water and one cup squid ink. A dash of flour. Two bat wings, finely sliced. Twenty three mouse whiskers. 5 spoonfuls of Banshee blood." Draco read out loud as he carefully put the ingredients into the cauldron, checking back with the scroll each time. "And half a cup of oil rendered from the fat of a dolphin." The slightly pungent liquid was poured in last, swirling over the surface of the other fluids before sinking to the bottom of the cauldron. "And let it simmer for two days before the next step. Hm. Okay then." Draco cast a quick heating charm and began tidying up his workbench. The Slytherin was always meticulous when it came to his potions and materials. 

"Well, what do you know, it's the ickle Potions Master."

Draco whirled, his dirty measuring spoon still in hand. "_Pansy_?" He asked incredulously, staring at the girl as if expecting her to vanish any moment. "What are _you_ doing here?"

She smirked and hopped up on a nearby stool, scrutinizing the shed as she replied. "I've come to give you your birthday present of course. Remember? I promised to buy you a whole new wardrobe. I owled Black and Lupin and they agreed to the trip as long as they could chaperone us. So that means Potter can come too! We can get rid of those horrendous rags of his while we're at it. What do you say?"  


"You're lucky I came to a reasonable stopping point in my research." Draco grouched, aiming a quick clean-up spell at the counter top. In moments it was polished to a shine, all drips and bits of left-over ingredients gone without a trace. "Okay. Let me just get dressed in something acceptable and we'll be off."  


"Of course, Draco. You might want to do something with your hair too." Pansy hinted, baring her teeth in what could possibly have passed for a smile. You know, if you were _blind_.

"There is _nothing _wrong with my hair Parkinson. And don't fiddle with my stirring rods."

They exited the shed, Draco leading the way. "I wasn't _fiddling_. I was rearranging them."

"You were fiddling." He said with stern finality before switching subjects deftly. "And besides, you're just jealous that my hair would make a Veela swoon in admiration."

"Swoon? I think not."  


"I think so." He countered with a smirk, opening the door for her. She slipped by him quickly, stepping inside the cottage. "Remember the Quidditch World Cup where Father introduced me to Krum? All the Bulgarian Veelas _swarmed_ me. It wouldn't have been so bad if that one hadn't crushed my face against her breasts when she hugged me. I almost _suffocated_."

"Poor baby." Pansy cooed with false sympathy. "You must have been traumatized for life. That certainly puts your fondness for. Ahem. _Broomsticks_ in a new light."

"Oh go snog a Hufflepuff." Draco said scornfully, making his way down the hall. 

"Well, there was that one time with. No, no. He was a Ravenclaw, wasn't he?" Pansy murmured thoughtfully to herself, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against her lips.

Draco laughed, unable to help himself, and led the way into his room. "Harry." He greeted cordially, moving towards his trunk. "Pansy's here." He announced, opening the lid and rummaging through the contents in search of something to wear.  


"Yeah, I know. Sirius said we were going shopping." The Gryffindor said this with all the enthusiasm of a convicted criminal headed for the gallows.

Pansy smiled brightly and sat down on the edge of the desk where Harry was finishing up a letter to Hermione. "Hello, Harry. May I call you Harry?"

"Um. Sure." Draco hid a smile at the other boy's apprehensive tone and picked out a pair of nice black trousers and a thin, white silk shirt along with his black dragon hide boots. He shrugged out of his light summer robes and pulled off the white cotton undershirt he was wearing. "_Draco_! What are you doing!" The Gryffindor hissed, scandalized.

The blonde turned, puzzled, his hand still outstretched as he reached for the other shirt. "Getting dressed. What? Oh, Pansy? Don't worry about her. I've known her since I was seven, Harry. She's seen it before, trust me." He turned back around, shaking his head at Harry's foolishness.

"He's right." Pansy said helpfully, crossing her legs. "He went through a stage when he was eight where he refused to wear clothes. Something about being a wood nymph, I believe. He must have spent half the year streaking past his father's guests in the gardens. I believe the whole Ministry was aware of his penchant for nudity by the time he finally grew out of it."

Harry started snickering uncontrollably. "Shut up." Draco sulked, buttoning up the shirt except for the last two near his throat. "Or need I remind you of the time you tried to be a medium and ended up setting all your family ghosts on us?" The trousers were next and he slipped into them quickly, stomping his feet inside his boots afterwards in protest of his lover's laughter. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbow quickly, scowling all the while.

"Well, Draco. We may both screamed like little girls, but you're forgetting _I _actually was one at the time. I have nothing to be ashamed of." She sniffed. 

Draco brought out his last resort. "Don't make me mention the time you tried to cut your own hair." The young Parkinson girl had ended up with a lopsided Mohawk when she was eight after a botched attempt at giving herself a makeover. It had been so bad it had actually made her mother faint in horror.

"Fine, fine. Are you ready yet?"

Draco put a little bit of hair gel in his white-blonde locks and smoothed his hair back. It wasn't plastered to his head, but it would keep out of his face nonetheless. "Yes. Harry, what about you?"  


"Oh, I've been ready." He was wearing a big, loose gray T-Shirt and brown corduroy jeans that were frayed at the ends and belted tightly around his waist to keep them from slipping off. Both Slytherins eyed his ensemble distastefully. "What?" Harry asked defensively, his broad shoulder's hunching slightly under their scrutiny. 

"Those aren't clothes, love. They're rubbish masquerading as clothes. _House-elves _wouldn't touch those."

Harry's chin out indignantly, making the tiny cleft on it more prominent. It was an expression Draco was intimately familiar with. The Gryffindor always did that when he was being stubborn, which was actually quite often. "Hey! They would so!"   


"That still doesn't help your case." Pansy pointed out, sliding off the desk. "Are you boys done now? I want to get out there before it's crowded."

"C'mon, Harry. You don't want to get in Pansy's way when it comes to shopping." He slipped his arm around the other boy's waist and was rewarded with an exuberant smile for the openly affectionate gesture. Draco smiled back and squeezed his waist, silently forgiving Harry for his bad timing last night. The Gryffindor's green eyes brightened cheerfully and the way they lingered on Draco's face was almost a caress in and of itself.

Forgotten for the moment, Pansy watched them and tapped her foot impatiently before speaking up. "You can sit there mooning over each other or you can follow me. Here's a hint. Only one will land you in St. Mungo's Extensive Care Unit." She gave them a fierce warning look and turned to sweep out the door.

"We're right behind you!" Harry said hastily as the two boys hurried after her. 

Nothing, it seemed, was quite as terrifying as a Slytherin girl determined to go on a shopping spree.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	11. A day at Diagon Alley

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I _strongly_ recommend that you read before starting this. No, really. Please, please read that first. 

Warnings for this chapter: Language. 

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

While Diagon Alley wasn't as busy as it usually was after students received their Hogwarts letters, it was a close thing. The bustling crowd, incredible sights and sounds, not to mention the sheer chaos of the place was reassuringly familiar. The crooked buildings and bumpy cobblestone streets were comforting after Draco's brief time in the Muggle world, awful place that it was. Remus and Sirius chatted politely with the teenagers, but their eyes were constantly scanning the streets with wary vigilance. Draco had his own wand tucked away inside his back pocket, which was covered by his shirt tail, but still easily accessible.

Pansy surveyed the various shops the way a general would size up the terrain of a battlefield. Harry was chewing nervously on his bottom lip and if he'd been able to, Draco might have possibly held his hand to reassure him. However, with a constant flow of people passing them not to mention the fact the Daily Prophet was within walking distance, Draco thought better of that particular idea and settled for a friendly clap on the shoulder. Sometimes, he really hated the fact he couldn't touch Harry in public; sometimes _not_ touching the other boy was almost painful. In fact, the level of longing he felt towards Harry often unsettled him.

Draco smiled and teasingly nudged Harry's shoulder. "Don't worry, Harry. It's only awful after the first half hour."

"Oh, lovely." The Gryffindor replied sarcastically, folding his arms over his chest. 

"Stop dawdling. Our first stop is Lockhart's Wonderful Wardrobe for Wizards." Pansy rolled her eyes at the completely horrified looks of all four males. "He may be a complete nincompoop, but the man knows his way around fashion."

"Um. Is that really necessary?" Sirius asked, desperation creeping into his voice. 

"Yes." The Slytherin girl said firmly, giving him a look. The others snickered at the way his face fell until she turned that same implacable stare on them. Yes, she was definitely a match for Snape. Draco wished them both the best of luck; they deserved each other. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

The group started walking as one, heading towards a nearby shop where a gaudy, gold awning with thin purple stripes fluttered in the afternoon breeze. Sirius took a deep breath, his footsteps faltering for only a moment. "Once more unto the breach, eh?" He said, ruffling his godson's already messy hair.

Remus' mouth twitched upwards in a smile. "Quite right, Padfoot."

"And what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger." Draco chipped in with the most Slytherin of phrases. Harry nodded bravely. 

"We can do this. _I_ can do this. After all, I've faced Voldemort. What's a bit of shopping in Lockhart's store compared to that?

"That's the spirit!" Sirius said loudly in agreement.

Pansy managed to hide her laughter at their expense quite well, but Draco had known her long enough to be able to tell that she was silently mocking them. 

"And here we are. Do try to behave." She fussed, obviously fretting that they'd embarrass her in the store.

"Yes, Mother."

"_Draco_. Just get inside before I decide to buy you violet robes."

"Right. My apologies."

Pansy shooed them inside the store and shut the door behind them with an ominous click. The sound of magically enhanced chimes filled the store, making Harry wince at the loud and overly cheerful sound. A voice piped up from the back. "My, my! I've got customers! Well, come in!" Lockhart swept into the room by way of a little curtained alcove, smiling brightly at them. His hair was curled in long ringlets and his outfit was baby blue with royal blue accents and a ruffle at his throat. Draco averted his gaze, hoping that if he didn't make eye contact Lockhart would ignore him. Plus, all that blue was blinding. What was the man thinking? _Ruffles_? "Welcome to Lockhart's Wonderful Wizard Wardrobe!" He said theatrically, flinging an arm out to gesture to the rest of the shop.

"Er. Isn't it Lockhart's Wonderful Wardrobe for Wizards?" Harry asked hesitantly, one dark eyebrow arching up in a way he _had_ to have stolen from Draco.

"Oh. Um, so it is." Lockhart said, making a 'Hmm.' face as if this was news to him before quickly changing the subject. "And bless my little slippers if it isn't Harry Potter! I remember you!" That was not surprising. Lockhart's memories were few and most likely each was treasured; this new life of his had began after he'd been Obliviated and no doubt seeing Harry and the Weasel was one of his first recollections. He beamed at Harry, his blue eyes bright and a bit vacant.

Harry stared miserably at his own scuffed sneakers, his shoulders hunching once more. His right hand automatically came up to smooth his fringe over his forehead. "Yeah." He mumbled, obviously uncomfortable. Draco decided to take charge.

"Well, that's all very well then, isn't it? But we've some shopping to tend to and if you're quite finished gawking at my companion I would like some _service_." He said with a perfect, upper-crust accent in his most obnoxiously arrogant manner.

The storeowner was visibly flustered for a moment. "Oh, yes. Yes, of course. What exactly are you looking for? We've some lovely summer robes! And all my designs have a special charm to tailor fit your clothes perfectly. It's wonderfully convenient for growing boys like yourself."

"Really? These look nice." Pansy stepped in, directing Lockhart's attention to a nearby rack as she questioned him closely on what sorts of styles and materials he used. 

The wizards loitered around the shop while Pansy did her thing, making faces at the occasional ridiculous outfits they came across. Sirius was particularly amused by a bright yellow matador jacket that had been paired up with dark green breeches and shoes that had little pom-poms on the toes. Draco teasingly offered to buy Harry a set of light pink robes with dark purple lining, but the Boy Who Lived was understandably quite adamant in refusing the offer. 

The Slytherin girl seemed to immediately realize which cuts and colors would flatter Draco and was quite generous with her coin when it came to her purchases. She, unlike Lockhart, understood the difference between stately elegance and flamboyance and Draco trusted her discerning taste implicitly. After half an hour or so Pansy had a collection of bags holding a profusion of robes that were so diverse it made his head swim just to think of it. Remus shrunk them all and pocketed them while Lockhart prattled on in the background. No one paid him any mind and Draco, for one, was not in the least interested about how well Lockhart embroidered.

"Harry, what do you think of these?" Pansy asked, batting her lashes at Harry who eyed her warily.

"They're uh. They're okay I guess."  


The dark blue velvet robes were very nice, Draco had to admit. And they'd look stunning on the Gryffindor too. "Here, why don't you try it on? And these green robes would look good on you too."

"No, um. That's okay. I don't need robes or anything, but thanks anyway. "  


"Intensive Care Unit, Harry." She reminded him sweetly.

Harry jumped nervously. "Right, right. I'll just go try these on."

By the time they left Harry had three dress robes which was quite an accomplishment seeing as how Pansy had wanted him to get three more. The Gryffindor's utterly stubborn disposition seemed to have come in handy once again. However, when Lockhart started suggesting that Harry buy what appeared to be a very skimpy toga, Draco decided it was time to leave and he dragged the dark haired boy out of the shop by his hand with the others following them at a slower pace.

They exited the shop quickly, all the males sighing with relief as soon as they were free. "That was awful." Harry said, sending one last hunted look at Lockhart who was waving at them cheerfully from the glass window in the door. He made a face and quickly turned back around.

"We all suffer for the sake of fashion." Pansy said primly, leading them along the street. They were in passing the owl emporium when she spoke up again. "You have muggle studies this year, right Draco?"

"Yes." The blonde said sulkily at the unwelcome reminder. He didn't want to think about it at all until he absolutely had to. Sirius shot him an amused look that the Slytherin proceeded to ignore. "What of it?"  


"Well, you have to dress in muggle clothes in that class to get full credit. And I know a shop right around the corner that sells them. Muggle Mania, I think it's called. It's very trendy. I know Parvati Patil has shopped there and Lavender Brown swears by it. She wore this adorable mini-skirt and her mother pitched a _fit_. Which was understandable of course. The skirt was scandalously short! Even Hooch's robes last year at the Valentine Ball didn't even begin to compare."

Draco grimaced at her. "No more gossip, please Pans. My brain feels like it's imploding."  


"Amen to that." Sirius interjected, rubbing his temples. 

"Men." Pansy sighed. 

"Women." Harry shot back under his breath. Draco couldn't help but snicker at his exasperated tone, which made Pansy punch him in the arm.

"_Ouch_. I didn't even _say_ anything!" He protested, nursing his arm. He was probably going to _bruise_! She might not have looked like it, but Pansy could really wallop someone when she put her mind to it.

Pansy sniffed. "I can't punch the _Boy Who Lived_." She said incredulously. "So I punched you instead." Her logic was utterly incomprehensible, but with Pansy that was nothing new. She was a girl after all and a Slytherin one at that.  


"Right. Of course. I see how that makes so much sense." Draco said scathingly, moving so the Gryffindor was between them. "Just make sure to beat up on someone else the next time Harry says something stupid. Share the pain, as it were."

"That's very generous of you, Draco." Remus said dryly, adjusting his rather full pockets.

Draco smirked. "I certainly think so." He looked up at the last minute, eyeing the store with fervent animosity. Muggle Mania had weird posters taped up all along it's front and the mannequins in the display window were wearing really odd outfits. The one in the striped uniform was particularly puzzling. "This store looks suspicious to me."  


"Oh, just get in!" Pansy said in exasperation, pushing him inside. Draco tried to dig in his heels, but Harry gave him a look and he capitulated with a pout. He'd had quite enough of muggles for one summer, thank you very much. But this was something he required for school and it was better to have Pansy (who had impeccable taste) and Harry (who was knowledgeable about all things muggle) along to help him pick out clothes. He had no desire to make himself a laughingstock in class, so obviously going along with this was the lesser of two evils in the long run.

Draco found himself fascinated despite his prejudices and he and Pansy sorted through the racks together, picking out outfits that would flatter Draco's trim body and pale coloring. He actually had to try on these clothes, but it didn't take too long. He was one of those people who could pull off almost everything.

The jeans were his favorite, mostly because wizarding clothes were always so modest and he did so love to show off his physique. The jeans clung to the curve of his arse and thighs. Draco was amused to note that when he'd come out of the changing room to get a second opinion, the Gryffindor could barely tear his eyes away from Draco. Pansy bullied Harry into getting some decent clothes for himself, picking out colors that went well with his dark hair and tanned skin and shoving him inside the changing rooms with a few threats to ensure he tried them on. Sirius bought himself some clothing too, while Remus poked around curiously in his usual easygoing way.

After they made their purchases, they stopped by Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor for sundaes. Draco sat down at one of the outside tables with a satisfied sigh and dug into his treat. "If I never have to go shopping again it'll be too soon."  


"Oh, don't be such a spoil sport. Admit it, you liked shopping in Muggle Mania."  


"It was alright." He finally conceded before turning his attention to savoring the spoonful of ice-cream and hot chocolate sauce that was melting on his tongue.

"There, that wasn't too hard to admit, was it?"

"Yes." He said gravely, licking his spoon. "I believe I'm going to die now because you forced me to confess that. Oh woe is me! The horror, the agony, the unrelenting pain and -" Pansy's elbow stopped him right when his melodramatic speech had begun to reach it's climax. "What is with you today?" He asked irritably, scooting away from her to head off any other unexpected blows.

"Oh, take it like a man, Draco." So much for sympathy.

Draco, incensed at hearing his manhood so maligned, found himself shouting back angrily at her. "I'll have you know I take it like a man all the time!" He immediately realized that was not the best of phrases. "Er. That didn't come out quite right." He said sheepishly, poking at his sundae with his spoon and blushing despite his best efforts not to. Sirius choked on his ice-cream while Remus coughed politely into his hand to hide his laughter. 

"Take it - like! Oh, god!" Harry gasped between bouts of laughter, clutching his shaking sides.

"Oh, find that funny do you?" He asked before kicking the Gryffindor, who was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, sharply in the shin.

"Yeah, I do."  


Draco stuck his tongue out at the other boy and turned his attention back to his treat. "Well, laugh it up while you can."

"Don't worry, we will." Pansy said, smiling at them both. They talked for a bit longer as they finished off their treats, poking fun at Draco every now and then.

Sirius cleared his throat and spoke up, interrupting Harry who had been talking Quidditch again. "Remus managed to get your Hogwarts letters early, Harry so we'd only have to go to Diagon Alley the once. Yours too, Draco. How about we go and get your school things now, hmm?"  


"Just a moment." Draco said, finishing off his last bite and preparing to stand up. "There. I'm done."

"No, no. Not you." Sirius said hurriedly. "Um. Why don't you and Remus go check out Gambol and Japes for a bit while we take care of that? Don't forget the Self-shuffling playing cards, Remus. We'll meet you both back here in forty-five minutes. Go on, shoo. "

"Okay." The Slytherin drawled slowly, looking at the ex-convict suspiciously. "We'll just be going then." He and Remus got to their feet and said their brief goodbyes, meandering towards the joke shop. "_That _was odd." Draco declared as soon as they had rounded the corner. 

Remus grinned. "The went to get your birthday present, I suspect. Harry and Sirius were talking about it this morning actually. You were holed up in the shed though, so you missed it."  


"Really?" Draco asked eagerly. "That's brilliant. I have some ideas about what to get Harry because I know his birthday is coming up soon, but I'm not sure to how to go about it."  


"Oh? I'd be happy to help." The werewolf offered, leading Draco inside Gambol and Japes. The man behind the counter smiled at them and returned to reading his copy of the Daily Prophet.

Draco wandered towards the self-shuffling card display with the werewolf. "Well, I was thinking… did his parents have any yearbooks or diaries that are still around? Did Harry's mum have any friends who might have hung to something of hers? I just thought - I mean, I know it's a sensitive subject, but if he could have something tangible of theirs I know he'd love it."  


Remus looked at him thoughtfully, his hazel eyes sad, but kind. He rested a hand on Draco's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "Harry's lucky to have you, you know that right? I know Lily had a best friend named Maggie. I'll owl her for you and report back on anything she might have kept. She completely slipped my mind until you mentioned it just now. I'll see what I can do for you."

"That's all I ask." Draco responded, handing Remus a deck of cards and moving on to examine some dungbombs. In the end, they only bought the cards and it took all of ten minutes before they found themselves back at the little café table outside the Ice Cream Parlor once more.

"They should take a while. Shall I buy us something else?"

"Thanks, Remus. A small vanilla cone would be perfect." The werewolf departed with a smile, leaving Draco to sit back and enjoy the stream of sunlight warming his shoulders and hair. The Slytherin contented himself with people watching, letting the sound of the crowd's chatter wash over him. A passing hag leered at him, one of her eyes milky with cataracts and her nose bent and warty. Draco cut his eyes away quickly in favor of watching a middle-aged wizard bustle past him hurriedly. There was a hodge-podge of people at Diagon Alley, as usual, and Draco enjoyed observing them as they went about their little shopping rituals. 

One bright head of hair caught his attention and he sucked in his breath as he recognized the perfectly sculpted face of his mother.

A house elf trailed the Lady Malfoy, holding a small, portable bassinet and several minimized bags of clothing. Draco could only stare in shock as Narcissa made her way towards one of the nearby café tables and sat down, crossing her legs and fanning herself as she took a break from her shopping. "Tubby, pop in and get me a slice of that Zuccotto Italian ice cream cake I so love."

"Tubby is getting that for Mistress right now, Tubby is." The house elf vanished with a pop. 

Narcissa looked cool, collected, and every inch the beautiful trophy wife she was even in the warmth of the day. Draco watched, remembering the times when they had sat down together at that same table after his mother had brought him along on one of her infamous shopping trips and how he'd always played the perfect gentleman to her lady just to see if he could coax a genuine smile out of her.

Draco watched her sit there, his heart in his throat, and was incapable of movement. He felt as if he'd been petrified. Narcissa bent to scoop her daughter out of the bassinet and hold her in her lap while passing onlookers smiled at the pretty picture the mother and child made. That finally managed to bring Draco out of his stupor and he stood quickly, walking over towards where his mother was fussing with the little one's outfit. "Mum? Mother?" He corrected himself, sidling over towards her.

Narcissa's head snapped up and she stared, surprised, at him for a few seconds before her sense returned. "Draco?"

The blonde slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, offering her a half smile. "That would be me. Out shopping?" He asked casually, squinting up at the sun as if to judge the time. It kept him from fidgetting; he was that nervous.

"Darling, you've gotten so big! I have missed you, you know, but Lucius made it clear any contact with you would be inappropriate."  


And Narcissa never did anything considered even remotely inappropriate. Not even for her first-born son. "Mmm." Was all he could think to say on the matter. "So, how's the brat?" Draco finally asked, nodding towards the silver-haired child in his mother's arms. Narcissa smiled down at the baby before looking back up.

"Just wonderful. She was born early, like you. I'm afraid she'll be a little small for most of her childhood, but it couldn't be helped." She said regretfully. The translation being Lucius had insisted the pregnancy be accelerated with Dark Spells. Draco knew the side-effects of those well. He himself had been a particularly small, delicate child. No doubt the girl would be too.

"Her name is Lucretia, isn't it? I saw the announcement in the Prophet."  


"Yes. Would you care to hold her?"  


"I - er. I wouldn't know how." Draco said uneasily, taking a step back.

Narcissa tutted at him. "Nevermind that. Come here and hold your arms out, like that, yes. And be careful to support her head." Draco took the child with not a little panic, staring down at the tiny, round face of his sister and the brilliant blue eyes that peered up at him sleepily. She smelled of milk and powder and her fingers were so very tiny. It was unfathomable how such a strange, little thing could be so utterly perfect. The panic that he'd clumsily hurt her receded and was replaced with a sort of reverent wonder.

"Oh." He said softly, somehow feeling profoundly moved by the little being in his arms. This was a _person_. A tiny little miniature female version of him, even down to the pout. "Oh." He said again, clearing his throat. 

"She's much better behaved than you." Narcissa said with one of her charming smiles, her teeth flashing white. 

Draco laughed and was delighted when Lucretia cooed back at him. "I'm sure she won't have nearly as many nannies as I did. Is Ms. Whittleson still in St. Mungos?" Draco asked with a smirk. He was fully aware that he had been a complete terror as a child, so bratty and spoilt that only Lucius had been able to control him, though the Malfoy patriarch had been away on business so often Draco had usually been left to run wild.

"Yes, the poor old dear." His mother answered with a matching smirk, despite her polite tone of voice. Draco's arms were getting tired, despite how small his sister was.

"Here, why don't you take her?" They awkwardly exchanged the bundle of blankets and baby, smiling at one another when she yawned.   


Draco slid into the seat across from his mother, running a hand through his hair before leaning back in his seat to take in the sight of Narcissa and Lucretia basking in the sun. "You're staying with Black and Potter for the summer, aren't you?" His mother asked politely, setting the baby back in her bassinet carefully.

"Yes, I am. Against all odds Harry and I are quite good friends." Narcissa smiled, but her worried eyes let Draco know it was false. "I'll be fine." He said exasperatedly. "I may have taken up with Gryffindors, but I'm still a Slytherin. I'm always cautious."  


Narcissa relaxed. "Good. What _is_ taking Tubby so long?"

"There must be a long line or a difficult customer." Draco suggested, relaxing in the comforting presence of his mother. If he used a bit of imagination he could pretend things were like they were supposed to be and he was still the Malfoy heir and just escorting his mother along on a shopping trip. Nothing more and nothing less. It was a nice illusion, but it didn't last long.

"Draco." An icy voice said and the Slytherin stood slowly, turning to look at the imposing figure of his father. Lucius was wearing an brown velvet waistcoat and fawn colored breeches with crisp white cravat at his throat and his ever-present cane in hand. His long hair was tied back with a brown velvet ribbon and Draco smirked at the sight. And here he had thought that _he_ was supposed to be the ponce of the family.  


"Lucius. What a… surprise." He baited, obviously having removed the expected 'pleasant' from the cordial greeting.

The elder Malfoy's nostrils flared at the subtle jab. "What are you doing here?"  


"Diagon Alley is a public place, Father, didn't you know?" He asked, keeping his voice purposely even. He wasn't going to let the other man know his hands were sweating from nervousness. The sound of his own steady and coolly amused voice calmed him somewhat.

"Draco." Narcissa warned him under her breath, shooting him a pleading look. He ignored her easily. He wasn't going to walk away, just because she didn't want him to make a scene. He had too much pride, and yes, arrogance, for that.

Lucius' mouth twisted sourly. "I am aware of that fact. Pity, though. Each time I visit it seems as if I see more and more unsavory types." He said coldly, with a pointed look at his son.

"Oh, I agree." Draco said, with just as pointed a look, though he felt as if his insides were shriveling. Thankfully, he managed to keep all expression from his face.

"How _dare _you insinuate-!" Lucius started to snarl, but he was promptly interrupted by a certain werewolf.

"_Draco_! There you are. Here's your ice cream." The Slytherin took the proffered sweet automatically and was startled to see that as soon as the werewolf's hands were free a wand poked out of his sleeve slightly, ever at the ready. "Malfoy."  


"Lupin." Lucius said with a disdainful curl of his lip. "I should have known that Draco would be consorting with the likes of _you_."  


The professor didn't even blink. He merely stared at the other man levelly. "He's a remarkably intelligent, gifted young man. You don't know what you're missing, Lucius."

"He's a poof and I want nothing to do with him! He's a disappointment." Draco swallowed down the pain hearing that caused, staring miserably at the ground. "And I had such high hopes for him." The tinge of regret in his father's voice hurt even more. H couldn't even control the flinch. 

"Your loss then." Remus said firmly, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezing it supportively.   


Lucius laughed, cruelly amused and uncaring. "I'm well rid of him. You can have him, werewolf. I have another heir now. Granted, it's a girl, but at least there will be no doubt that the children will be hers. And she will be much easier to control."

"You're a cold bastard." Remus said with no small amount of distaste.

"Ah, but I'm a powerful and rich cold bastard, Lupin, and quite frankly your opinion means nothing to me. It's a shame you're so spineless. My Lord has many uses for Dark creatures like you. Unfortunately for Draco, he has no need for nasty little pillow biters."  


Draco recoiled, insulted. Before he could retaliate, the professor grabbed his elbow. "Come along, Draco. We've better things to do than listen to this fool prattle on." Remus herded the Slytherin along, his wand now conspicuously in sight as they walked away.

Draco scowled darkly to himself, his good mood completely blown away. "I want to go home."  


"What?" Remus asked, startled. "But Harry - your presents! Wouldn't you rather stay for just a bit longer?"  


"I'd like to go home." Draco repeated in a low voice, obviously determined. "I can floo from the Leaky Cauldron, can't I?"

"No, we're not connected to the floo network. I have an extra portkey I brought along for emergencies, but -"  


"I'd appreciate that. Tell Harry I'm sorry I didn't stay. But I'm really not in the mood."  


"I understand." The werewolf said sympathetically. "Here, one moment." He dug around in his robes and came up with a little wooden figurine. Remus cast the appropriate spells to activate it and handed it Draco. "That should work. You have five seconds befo-"

The Slytherin felt the familiar pull somewhere in his stomach and was prepared for the abrupt scenery change. He pocketed the figurine and made his way up the hill towards the cottage, brooding and melancholy. Draco stepped inside and made his way into his room, through the warm, cozy living room and the cheery kitchen, simply wanting to curl up in bed and never crawl out again. 

Draco didn't even pause to consider about the fact he'd called Black Cottage his home or how much truth his unthinking comment had held.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	12. One birthday, a few bribes, and lots of ...

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Draco Malfoy and His Unknown Fate which I _strongly_ recommend that you read before starting this. No, really. Please, please read that first. As for this chapter, Draco talks in his sleep, which is mentioned in the first fic. This chapter is fairly explicit so don't read it if you don't like that sort of thing. 

Warnings for this chapter: Language. Smut. Fluff.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

The summer days slipped away quietly, fading into each other so seamlessly Draco could barely tell one day from the next. He mostly spent time in in his laboratory working on his various experiments or with Harry roaming the hills and flying. It was peaceful and serene, an ideal summer that Draco knew he'd always remember. The Gryffindor had gotten him a lovely black dragonhide jacket that he adored and, in turn, Draco was making plans to get Harry a birthday present he knew the other boy would love.

Lupin had written to Lily Potter's school chum and discovered that her journals had been accidentally pawned along with her other school books in Dedalus Diggle's second-hand shop in Kent. Remus had arranged for them to visit the shop and Draco had managed to dig up Harry's mum's third, fifth, and sixth year diaries. Diggle himself had directed them to another small shop down the road where the second and seventh year journals could be found. The first one had either been sold, lost, or hadn't existed at all, but Draco had been more than satisfied with finding six out of seven.

He'd wrapped them up in gold paper and bright silk crimson ribbon that ended in a huge bow in one corner. For Harry's belated birthday, they were going to the Burrow, where they'd be staying for one week. They'd been unable to celebrate Harry's birthday at the Dursleys and so Sirius had insisted that Harry wait until he could be with his family and friends. The Weasleys had immediately volunteered to host the party. Draco was absolutely dreading it, but his lover was looking forward to it so much that he didn't have the heart to sulk about it.

Remus and Sirius were kind enough to hide the journals in their closet along with their own presents for the Boy Who Lived. Harry knew exactly where his gifts were, but he didn't try to sneak a peek at them. He almost seemed to savor the anticipation. The night before they were scheduled to arrive at the Weasleys Harry was so excited he could barely sit still.

"I've never had a real party before. D'you think there'll be cake?"

Draco looked up from where he was stretched out the top bunk bed and smiled indulgently at his Gryffindor. "Yes, Harry. I'm sure there'll be cake. Ice Cream too."  


"Wow. This is going to be great!" Harry's eyes were brighter than usual and if his grin got any wider Draco suspected his face would split in half.

The Slytherin let his cheek rest against the cool sheets, his pale hair falling artfully into his eyes. "Mmm." There was only so much enthusiasm he could take at once and Harry had been like that for most of the week, getting more and more wound up as the big day neared. Draco was anticipating it too, but for entirely different reasons. He'd been half-hard for the past two hours, hoping against hope Harry would just cut to the chase already. Finally, he gave up and decided if it was going to be mentioned at all, he'd have to be the one to do it. "So, Harry. You do recall the your promise of bribery don't you?"  


Harry sat up in the desk chair, blinking a little. "You mean so you won't be awful to Ron and everyone else at the party?"

"Exactly." Draco agreed. "I've got a list. In the drawer by your elbow."  


Ducking his head of impossibly messy hair, Harry turned his attention to the desk drawer and rummaged around in it briefly. He pushed his glasses up and scanned it quickly, blushing slightly as he read over it.

"Oh. Er. You want me to. Um. Spank you?" Harry was blushing, but if the tent in his pants was anything to go by he wasn't completely averse to the idea.

Draco grinned impishly. "Just to see if I like it."  


"And then a full body massage. That sounds nice." Harry kept ready, biting his lower lip. "Oh. I don't - er. What's this one?"

"What's what one?" Draco asked, propping himself up on his elbows. 

"The rim job. What is that?" The other boy said, looking up curiously and a little embarrassed at his own ignorance. The Slytherin thought it was cute. Harry's fly away hair and flushed cheeks made him absolutely adorable in Draco's opinion. "I don't think I've heard of it before."

Draco had to smirk at that. "Poor innocent Gryffindor, hm?" Finally, he took pity on Harry and decided to fill him in. "Well, have you ever heard the term ass-licker?"

"Yeah, a few times. Seamus even called me that once."

"Well, this is the literal interpertation." Harry could only stare, shocked into silence. 

Soon enough his nose wrinkled up with distaste and he managed to reply. "Are you sure…? I mean, I know some people are into some really weird things, but that doesn't sound very sexy." Draco shrugged and gave him a stubborn look.

"You said anything. And I just bathed so it isn't unhygienic."  


"Right, right. And then you want to be fucked."

"Followed by some cuddling." Draco added, just daring the other boy to make a comment about his masculinity. However, since Harry himself was a die-hard cuddler, no comments were forthcoming.

The Gryffindor took a deep breath, as if trying to fortify himself. "Okay. I'll lock the door and you get undressed and I'll try the… spanking thing. I don't know if I'll be very good at it. I'll feel really silly."  


"Don't be such a prat." Draco said fondly, pulling his shirt over his head and unbuttoning his pants. It took only moments for him to undress and climb off the top bunk and then he was standing naked, watching Harry finish up the locking charm and walking over towards him. "I just want to try this to see what it's like. I saw it in a magazine once and it looked really hot."

Harry pulled out the desk chair with a doubtful look at the other boy before sitting down. "Alright. I guess you should get on my lap then, if that's okay?"  


"You could be a bit more forceful than that, Harry." Draco complained as he draped himself over the other boy's thighs. He wiggled a bit to get comfortable and yelped when the Gryffindor's hand lashed out at his bare arse with a loud smack, though it barely stung at all. "Hey! Some warning would be nice!"  


"I thought you wanted me to be forceful?" The Gryffindor said cheekily. Smack, smack, smack. The Slytherin wiggled again, this time from arousal, rubbing himself off on Harry's denim-clad thighs. The friction against his cock was just lovely and Harry was peppering blows lightly across the other boy's pale thighs and buttocks. Maybe just to get Draco used to it or maybe because he couldn't bring himself to really put much strength behind his slaps.

"Harry." Draco whined, raising his arse up and tucking his face against his arm. "Harder!"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Then I'll just tease the Mudblood and the Weasel at your party. I'll make fun of their tatty clothes and the Weasel's fat _mum_." Draco's voice rose sharply when Harry landed a solid blow right on his pert bum.

_Smack_. Smack. Thwack. "Fine. See how you like it." Draco should have felt stupid, bent over the Boy Who Lived's lap like some little misbehaving child, but he didn't. He felt hot and dirty in the good way, rocking into the blows while he smeared pre-cum all over his stomach and Harry's legs. His breathing was short and loud in his own ears and the spankings sort of stung, but they were the perfect counterpoint to the pleasure. And Harry seemed to like it too, or at least he liked how much Draco liked it, because his erection was a solid lump against the other boy's hip.

"Harry! Harry, just like - oh! That! Please, just-" And Draco was gasping and moaning, and each smack hurt a little more, but it hurt in such a nice way and then Draco was coming, spilling all over Harry's trousers and the chair and himself and it was all he could do to keep himself from falling off the other boy's lap. He slumped down, trying to catch his breath, while Harry drew his fingers ever so lightly over Draco's pink, tender bottom. The gentle, tickling sensation was nice and Draco sighed, satisfied at this new experiment.

"Not too bad, then?"

"Not too bad." Draco echoed, sliding off the other boy's lap and standing up. A careful step revealed that while he was a bit sore, it wasn't anything that would bother him. "Bloody fantastic actually, though I don't think I'll be asking for it again anytime soon."

Harry flexed his hand briefly, examining the sore skin of his palm. "The massage is next, right?"

Draco nodded and made his way to the bed. He'd already brewed up his own oil for the occasion, one that would be exceptionally soothing, and it had been sitting in the nightstand waiting to be used for over a week. "Here. You can use this." He found the heavy glass container with its old fashioned stopper and put it right in easy reach before collapsing onto the bed. Some squirming and he was on his stomach, waiting eagerly for his massage.

"Okay. Is it okay if get undressed? I don't want any of that on my clothes."

"Be my guest." There was the sound his clothes being discarded and his spectacles being set carefully on the nightstand. Draco shifted impatiently as he waited for his lover to finish up. Then Harry was finally crawling into the bottom bunk bed with him, arranging himself so he was sitting on the back of Draco's thighs. He poured the oil out carelessly on Draco's skin, mindless of the sheets, and set the bottle down.

Harry's hands were incredibly strong and his fingers were quite clever and Draco practically melted into the bed as the Gryffindor began to knead his back muscles. The dark haired boy was careful to rub down every inch of him, working the oil into his skin even on his hands and feet. It felt wonderfully relaxing, though when Harry's hands reached his inner thighs it became more arousing than anything. His arms, his calves, his stomach; they were all carefully massaged with surprising skill. Apparently, Draco had stumbled on another one of Harry's natural talents.

Harry seemed to have quite a lot of those.

When the Gryffindor started kneading the firm cheeks of his arse, Draco's legs automatically fell open, spreading for the other boy's convenience. He was still sensitive from the spanking, but somehow the tender skin only made Harry's hands on him feel that much nicer. "You might… mmm. Want to move on to the next item on the list. Feels good though." Draco said sleepily, smiling when Harry's thumb dipped in to tease at his entrance.

"Okay. I can do this. Right." Harry said to himself nervously. Draco closed his eyes and tensed as he felt soft puffs of breath against his ass. The other boy tentatively licked at his entrance and Draco buried his face into the pillow, raising his hips for more contact. 

It was wet and warm, sort of teasing light little strokes of the tongue that made Draco's balls ache. Eventually, Harry managed to overcome his hesitation and his tongue made broad swipes, sweeping back and forth in a tantalizing manner and swirling round and round. The Slytherin moaned, unable to do anything but take it.

Harry's hands starting kneading the cheeks of his arse again while his tongue went about its business, doing terribly wicked things to Draco that were stealing away all of his self-control. He had to bite his bottom lip to keep from whimpering and when Harry's tongue wormed it's way inside him Draco actually cried out. His fingers were twisted tightly in the bed sheets and he kept his face buried in the pillow while Harry rimmed him enthusiastically.

The flutters and stabbing motions of his tongue made Draco's cock jolt time and time again and Harry's mouth opened him up bit by bit until Draco was thrashing under him, begging for more into the pillow. He'd known he was exceptionally sensitive there, but he hadn't realized how much until now, when Harry was milking him with that wonderful mouth of his, giving sucking little kisses to balls before he returned to slide his tongue back inside the other boy.

Time seemed to slow, like molasses; sticky and hot and oh so sweet. Draco found himself actually crying, the pleasure was that intense and even though his face was hidden from Harry the other boy knew all he needed to from the way Draco's body kept begging him for more silently. Hot tears wound their way down his face, but it was a good sort of crying, the kind that came from incredibly perfect sex. Pre-cum had leaked all over Draco's stomach and the bed, making arcing little patterns on the sheet to accompany the smears of oil from his massage. He'd been on edge for what seemed like forever, begging for release as Harry pushed him closer and closer to orgasm, but never quite nudging him over into the abyss. Several times Harry had tugged lightly on his balls to keep him from orgasm and Draco was almost insane with the need to simply come already.

He was whining now, a steady keen interspersed with whimpers and gasps. His knuckles ached fiercely from their tight hold on the bed sheets, but Draco hardly cared at all. Finally, Harry scraped his teeth over the clenching muscle of Draco's entrance, making him sob, and then just tongue fucked the other boy with strong, steady thrusts. The blonde twisted wildly, writhing uncontrollably, and came with a muffled scream, shuddering again and again. 

His vision flickered black at the edges he came so hard and afterwards he could only lie there limply, completely drained.

"Draco? Draco!" The Gryffindor rolled him over and peered at him anxiously. "Are you alright?"

"Yhsssh. M'fine." Draco managed slur out. His face was flushed and his hair was sticking to his damp forehead and his tongue felt thick in his mouth. He didn't even know if he could move his limbs either. They felt terribly heavy. His eyelids were lowered and his lips were swollen and red from where he'd bitten them to quiet himself. No doubt he looked thoroughly shagged out.

"You sure you're okay?" Harry asked, more amused than concerned now that he'd seen how utterly debauched the other boy looked.

"Mmmhmmm." He murmured, his eyelids fluttered down sleepily. "Nap. Then more sex."

He fell asleep to the sound of Harry's grumbling. "I haven't even gotten to come _once _yet." Draco couldn't help but grin to himself and think _payback's a bitch _before he was slipping away into the depths of slumber.

He woke up fifteen minutes later, roused by Harry's insistent mouth sucking on his cock. "Hmmm?"

Harry propped his head up on Draco's thigh. "Wake up, sleepyhead. I get to fuck you now, remember?" The Gryffindor said cheerfully. 

"Mmm." Draco slung a leg over Harry's shoulder and another one around his hip. "Go to town." And then he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again.

"Lying back and thinking of England, are you?" The dark haired boy teased.

"Mm. No. Just how fucking good you're going to feel inside me." Draco said in a low, lustful voice. The other boy made a low sound in his throat, a sure sign that he was incredibly turned on. The Slytherin waited while Harry got the oil and readied them both, though after the rim job Draco needed almost no preparation at all, but Harry was extra careful anyway. The Slytherin was more relaxed than he could ever recall being before. He felt positively boneless.

And then Harry was sliding inside him so easily, fitting inside Draco so perfectly it was like they'd both been made for each other. Draco let Harry take the lead, but still managed to push back into the other boy's thrusts while Harry held on to his hipbones, angling together so Harry's cock rubbed over his prostate. Draco's eyes almost rolled back in his head and he just let himself be fucked, pliable and so completely _happy_ that he felt a swell of warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with lust or sex.

It felt so perfectly right and Draco opened his eyes to see Harry smiling down at him, those green eyes of his lingering on his face tenderly and the Slytherin smiled back, feeling that strange swell of warmth again. His chest almost ached from the force of emotion and another tear slipped down the side of his face, tracing a wet path to his ear.

Harry bent down, slowing his pace so Draco felt each inch of him every time he drove himself into the other boy's bodies, and their lips met in a soft caress of skin on skin. Draco let his tongue peek out and he traced Harry's bottom lip, pleased when Harry's tongue met his own. The Slytherin wasn't sure what kind of kiss it was, but the playful slide of tongue on tongue out in the open air was not only incredibly sexy, but sort of sweet too.

And then Harry's thrusts started becoming more erratic and his kiss turned hungry and he devoured the other boy's mouth as they fucked, hips battering away at Draco's sensitive arse and the Gryffindor tensed all over, gasping as he emptied himself into the other boy.

Harry let his head rest on Draco's breastbone, turning his head to place a soft kiss on his pale skin. "Sorry. Just a sec." And the Slytherin watched as Harry scooted down to swallow his erection, spearing him with three fingers and rubbing at his prostate mercilessly. Draco bit his lip and shut his eyes tightly, coming for the third time that night. 

Draco held out one arm invitingly and Harry scrambled up to fit himself to Draco's side, tucking his head under the blonde's chin and tangling their legs together. Draco cradled him close, snuggling into the other boy's warmth. "Thank you, Harry. I promise to be perfectly cordial at your party tomorrow. I really did appreciate it." He added softly, ruffling Harry's messy head of black hair fondly just because he could. Harry's locks were thick and smooth, clinging to his fingers as he ran them through the other boy's hair.

"I know." Harry said into neck, tasting the salty skin almost absent-mindedly afterwards. "It was nice. Sleep now?"

"Sleep." Draco affirmed, closing his eyes and smiling to himself in a sort of silly way. Harry moved even closer to him, resting his head on Draco's chest, but he was already drifting off to sleep, lulled by Harry's warmth and the sound of his breath. Soon enough he was dead to the world, his mouth soft and his lips slightly parted as he breathed slowly.

"Love you, Draco." The Slytherin merely shifted a little when Harry pressed a gentle kiss to his chest, right under his collar bone. "I love you so much." Harry sighed.

_Mmm_. _Good dreams. _And Draco, still asleep, replied unconsciously with complete honesty, murmuring softly as he spoke. "Love you too, Harry."

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	13. The Burrow

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: Okay, Draco arrives at the Burrow.

Warnings for this chapter: Language, probably. Insinuations of incest because Draco has a dirty, dirty mind.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

Draco took a deep breath, attempting to calm his stomach, which seemed to be trying to stage a revolt. Maybe he shouldn't have had that omelet for breakfast. He'd woken up feeling refreshed and oddly peaceful, an emotion the Slytherin rarely experienced. Draco had felt so relaxed he'd smiled all during breakfast, exchanging grins with Harry over their omelets. However, as the hours ticked by nervousness began eroding that morning-after contentment away bit by bit until Draco felt like a bundle of raw, exposed nerves. 

_I can do this. I'm a Malfoy and a Slytherin. I'm a pureblood with a lineage so long I could choke on my own tongue trying to recite it and all my ancestors were powerful wizards and witches. I'm a prefect and I'm bloody good at potions and Ron Weasley is going to kill me for fucking his best friend. I'm too young to die! _Draco babbled silently, panicking at the thought of being stuck a whole week in what amounted to enemy territory.

He stepped away from the fireplace, eyeing the floo powder nervously. "Maybe I should just stay home, Harry. Are you sure I'll survive whole week with the Weasel? Not to mention the other red-heads. How about I just keep an eye on the cottage while you visit?" He wheedled, knowing very well that it was a lost cause.  


Harry sighed. "Relax, Draco. It'll be fine. And you promised to behave, remember? You have to go. Please, for me?"

Draco shot him a glare. "That's not fair, using that. And do I look bloody senile to you? Of course I remember! And I _will _behave, but it won't mean much if someone strangles me to death, will it?"  


"Ron wouldn't do that." Harry said firmly, trying to coax his lover towards the fireplace. 

"He would too." Draco protested.  


"He may want to, but he won't. He knows he'd end up in Azkaban and there's probably spiders there. Don't worry about it Draco, just floo! Moony and Padfoot've already left and they've got to be wondering what the hold up is."  


"I don't care! I'll be dead, Harry! _Dead_! Corpse-in-the-bloody-ground dead! And when exactly are you planning to tell Weasley we're shagging? Because I want a head start before he comes after me! Maybe I can hide out in France until he's cooled off."  


"Draco! Stop it! Everything will be _fine_. Ron's my best friend and he may not like the fact we're - whatever we are - but he'll come around. And I won't let him hurt you. Okay? Do you feel better now that you've had your panic attack?" Harry said soothingly, pulling Draco to his chest and holding him tightly.

The Slytherin nodded sullenly, only slightly appeased by the kiss to his cheek. "You just have to play the hero don't you?"  


"Quiet, you. Just floo already."  


Draco took another deep breath, this time letting a determined expression flit across his face as he stepped out of the other boy's arms and towards the fireplace. He took a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the grate, thankful that Sirius and Remus had already taken care of their luggage. Draco didn't _want _to go, but he really didn't have a choice in the matter. He'd promised after all and he didn't have the heart to let Harry down like that. "The Burrow!"  


_Merlin, help me._

The floo trip was over quickly and Draco stepped out of the fireplace, dusting the soot off himself. He was wearing some of his muggle clothes, which consisted of a pair of tight black jeans and a long sleeved gray t-shirt that showed off the delicate slope of his collarbones. His dragonhide boots were in need of a polish, but they'd do for a trip to the Weasleys. Draco had purposely dressed down, though only because Remus had hinted that a bit of tact and discretion was probably necessary if he wanted to come out of this alive and with all his limbs. Draco had to agree. The Weasley temper was infamous. 

Which was why he was so very, very worried.

_I can do this. I can - oh Slytherin's skivvies, I'm so bloody dead._ He moved to the couch and waited for his lover's arrival. Harry came tumbling out of the fireplace, glasses askew and dust smeared all over his face. The other boy obviously didn't do well with magical means of transportation.

"Harry!" Granger rushed him, crushing him against her in a bone-cracking hug that was far too strong for such a slender girl. Draco raised one eyebrow and watched, amused, as Harry wheezed for breath. 

"Watch it, Hermione. Can't… breathe! Thanks." He said, gulping in air once his friend had released him. Harry adjusted his glasses and attempted to dust himself off. 

Hermione smiled at him welcomingly. "It's been a madhouse around here! Mrs. Weasley is making scones and Mr. Weasley's been pestering me about muggle technology. Fred and George are exploding things in their room and I think Sirius has gone up to help them. Remus is chatting away with Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen and Ginny's been talking non-stop about Malfoy."

Draco shifted uncomfortably while Harry snickered. "What about Ron and the others?" 

_Hopefully in Peru. Is Weasley in Peru? Because that would be wonderful. Though I'm pretty sure I'm not that lucky._

"Oh, Percy's with Penelope out back. Bill and Charlie are degnoming the garden and Ron's been running about like a chicken with its head cut off getting ready for your party. Mrs. Weasley even baked a cake!"  


"Told you there'd be cake." Draco said with a grin at the utterly pleased expression on Harry's face. It was so easy to make him happy sometimes. Draco briefly regretted the fact he hadn't terrorized the Dursleys more. They certainly deserved it for the way they'd treated Harry. His poor, mistreated Gryffindor.

Harry was beaming at him, his eyes so bright Draco thought the twinkles in them could probably have given Dumbledore's a run for their money. The Slytherin gave his hand a surreptitious squeeze and, for the sake of his dignity, pretended like Granger hadn't noticed the gesture and made a girly 'aww' face at him for it.

"Harry!" Weasley bellowed, running into the room at full speed. Draco dropped Harry's hand swiftly, but only after one last squeeze. The redhead didn't even notice. "You're here mate! Happy Late Birthday!" He clapped Harry hard on the shoulder, sending the shorter boy careening into Draco. The Slytherin barely managed to keep them both from toppling over. "Whoops! Sorry about that."  


"Honestly, Ron. You shouldn't be running in the house."  


"And you shouldn't be nagging me about running in the house." The freckled boy retorted quickly to his girlfriend. "C'mon, Harry! You have to see the new poster I've got up." He all but ignored Draco, but at this point Draco was more than happy to be ignored.

"Sure, Ron."

"Well? Come on!" And the redhead was dragging him away by his sleeve. Harry paused to throw an apologetic glance over his shoulder at Draco, but the Slytherin just waved him off. Yes, he would have liked to be the center of Harry's attention twenty-four hours a day for seven days a week, but that wasn't feasible and really, he didn't want to spend more time around the Weasel than he had too.

The two boys disappeared up the stairs, though Ron's enthusiastic voice could be heard until they shut the door of his room behind them, dulling it to a soft drone. Granger managed a small smile for him. "So, how are you doing, Malfoy?"  


"Fine." He answered politely. _You just have to remember to behave, Draco. Or Harry will never do that thing he did last night to you again and you wouldn't want that, would you? And I really should stop talking to myself. I wouldn't want to end up like Great Uncle Tybalt, running about thinking Cornish pixies are out to kill me._

Hermione took a seat on the couch, gesturing for him to join her. He did so cautiously, keeping a safe distance between them. Finally, he remembered his manners. "How was Venice?" He vaguely recalled Harry mentioning that she had vacationed there. Fortunately, he remembered right and the Gryffindor girl started blathering on about how wonderful Italy was, taking control of the conversation so Draco didn't have to worry about his sharp tongue getting away from him.

Draco let the frizzy haired Gryffindor bore him to death with her nattering for almost half an hour before Sirius came to his rescue. By that time Draco was about ready to stab his wand through his ears, just to end his own misery, but Remus had already confiscated it before they'd left the cottage out of fear that Ron would end up with two noses or something else similar to that if Draco kept it on hand. 

Sirius plopped down next to Draco, grinning widely. "Those twins should be made honorary Marauders! They're quite the handful, aren't they?" He had a smear of something pink and gooey across his cheek, but Draco was too amused by it to mention it to the dark haired man.

"Oh, they're terrible troublemakers. They made poor Percy's life hell when he was Head Boy."

"Speaking of which, I'm fairly certain you'll be appointed Head Girl next year, Granger. And no doubt Dumbledore's going to make Harry Head Boy."  


"Oh, well. I suppose it could happen." Granger said modestly, grinning a little to herself. "You're probably in the running too, Malfoy."  


Draco snorted. "Like they're going to make Lucius Malfoy's son Head Boy without heavy bribes? I don't think so. Even if I am disowned, the school board won't chance it."

"Well, we'll see, won't we?" Sirius chipped in with a smile. "I think you'll all do perfectly fine next year."

_BABOOM_! The sound of an explosion halted the conversation as the Burrow shook for a moment and Sirius looked sheepish. "YOU TWO BETTER CLEAN THAT UP, MARK MY WORDS, BOYS!" A incredibly loud, piercing voice that would not have been out of place in a howler called from the kitchen. Draco was staring wide eyed at the ceiling as plaster dust fell. Sirius was trying to stifle his laughter, though he was having some trouble.

Granger leveled a frown at him that was eerily similar to McGonagall's trademark expression of disapproval. "Were you encouraging them, Sirius?"

"Um, no? They're going to have a hard time getting _that _off the ceiling though." The Marauder grinned impishly. "Those two are doing some amazing thing with potions. You'd love it, Draco. Why don't you go up and say hi?" Sirius urged, smiling at him encouragingly. 

Draco hesitated for a moment, but the thought of spending any more time listening to Granger go on about her studies was the deciding factor. "Alright, then." He nodded politely to them both and made his way up the crooked stairs, past several rooms and to the door where wisps of smoke were escaping the crack at the bottom.

He knocked at the door after a moment of hesitation and it was flung open in short order, revealing one sooty redhead with gunk hanging off his left ear. "Well, hello there Malfoy. What are you doing lurking about?"  


"Sirius said you've got some interesting potions up here. I'm rather fond of potions myself so I thought I'd come take a look."  


The twins had Draco stuffed in a rubber apron with goggles and rolled up sleeves, helping them with their newest experiment in no time flat. They were both exceptionally clever, far more clever than he would have given them credit for, and Draco thought that since they were supposedly honorary Slytherins perhaps spending time with them wasn't quite so embarrassing as it should have been. He filled them in on some of his own research as they worked and found, to his delight, that the two Weasleys were not only impressed, but were actually willing to buy some of his potions for their own line of sweets. 

By the time lunch rolled around they'd already come up with a whole list of goodies to be made out of Draco's new potions. Chipmunk Chews, Moody Munchies, Dizzy Drops, Laughy Taffy, and Gushing Gobstoppers seemed to have the most promise. They'd even worked out a commission rate and the amount of royalties Draco would be getting when Molly Weasley finally called for them.

"LUNCHTIME, FRED! GEORGE!" She all but bellowed. "I want you clean and down here in five minutes! Do you hear me?"  
  
"Yes, mum!" Shouted Fred, who was just a bit shorter than his brother.

"We better hurry up." George said, pulling off his apron and stepping over a pile of pink gunk near the corner of the lab bench. 

"Before Ron eats it all." Fred pitched in. Draco didn't think he'd ever get used to the way they finished their sentences. In fact, he wasn't at all sure he wanted to know just how close the two brothers _were_. Maybe it was his inner pervert talking, but their habit of predicting each others' moves and what the other was going to say was not only entertaining it was…. Well. A bit - unsettling. He'd heard rumors at Hogwarts about the former Gryffindor beaters, not all of them fit for polite company.

Draco sighed, untying his own apron and pulling off the goggles that had messed up his hair as he fretfully tried to fix the damage. "You are a vain one, aren't you?" Fred observed, grinning as Draco tried to smooth his hair down.

"You'd be too if you looked like me." The Slytherin shot back haughtily.

"Oh ho! I have it on good authority -"

"That we're quite handsome blokes!" Fred finished for his brother, exchanging a wink with his twin. Draco gave them both an odd look and finally decided he was better off not knowing.

"Right. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starving." They spent some time jostling each other in the bathroom while they all attempted to wash their hands at once and then the twins pounded down the stairs, running towards the kitchen flat out. Draco followed at a more sedate pace, too well behaved to stomp around when he was a guest in someone else's house.

When he finally reached the kitchen table his steps faltered. There were so many people packed around it that there was not enough room for a garden gnome, much less Draco. Harry waved him over with a grin. "Here! C'mon Draco. You need to eat too!"  


"Oh dear, there's barely any room at all and - Don't even try it, Ron - I'm so sorry, dear. Perhaps you could sit on Harry's lap? You're such a slender boy. I am terribly sorry about this." The Weasley matriarch slapped her son's hand away from his older brother's beer without any hesitation and Draco snickered at the wounded look the Weasel shot his mum. Granger was actually sitting on his lap, though he had no idea how she managed to look quite so prim and proper in such a compromising position.

"If that's all right with, Harry?" Draco questioned, lifting one eyebrow and smiling slightly at the grin he received.

Harry nodded easily. "Sure. Just don't steal my food, hm?"  


"Perish the thought. You're so skinny you need all the food you can get, Potter."

Draco managed to settle himself with reasonable comfort on the other boy's knee and he even managed to keep a smile off his face, despite the fact Harry had slung an arm around his waist to keep him from slipping off. Just feeling the other boy against his back made him go all gooey and strange inside. One part of Draco was afraid of that, but another welcomed it whole heartedly. And he was still in such a good mood from last night that he barely minded he was sitting in the other boy's lap like some girl. 

A handsome redhead with a fang earring piped up from the other side of the table. "I could eat in the living room." He offered solicitously, but his mother quickly put an end to that.

"Don't you even dare, Bill Weasley. You'll eat at the table or you'll not eat at all. It's a shame it's raining or we could have gone out to the picnic tables, but this will have to do."  


Ginny piped up from where she was ensconced in Charlie Weasley's lap. "Maybe next time we can just set up a pavilion or something? I mean, it's raining too heavily to do it now, but maybe next time." 

"What a clever idea! That's my girl!" Arthur Weasley said with a wide smile. Then he turned to his other side where the Weasel sat with Granger in his lap. "So, Hermione, tell me. What exactly are floppy disks for? Do they really flop?"  


Conversations had sprouted up all over the table and the gabble of voices was a distinct counterpoint to the soothing pitter-patter of rain outside. Harry's thumb was moving back and forth slowly, caressing Draco's stomach as they both ate from the Gryffindor's double-packed plate. Everyone's elbows were in the way and the Weasel knocked his glass over two times in succession before Granger put it out of range of his gangly arms. Draco leaned back into the other boy and snuggled down, satisfied at being exactly where he was, and glanced down the table just in time to catch Bill Weasley's knowing look.

Well, bugger. Apparently not all the Weasleys were as dense as Ron.

"You want my corn?" Harry asked, pushing it around with his fork idly.

"No. You eat it. It's _your _corn."

"I was just offering." The Gryffindor said innocently, attempting to sneak a bite of Draco's little lump of mashed potatoes. Harry had already finished his in record time. Apparently it was a favorite.

Draco cut his fork off with his own. "_Hey_! Those're mine."

"Oh, sorry." Harry said contritely, but he tried to get another bite anyway.

They started dueling with their forks, clashing the tines together as Harry tried to steal the potatoes and Draco blocked him every time. Ginny giggled at them both and Remus sighed, passing them the bowl of mashed potatoes with a meaningful look. "Share boys."

"But I want _his_ potatoes." Harry fake-whined, laughing at the stern look Remus leveled on him.

"You big potato stealer. Stop it! Don't make me stab you with my fork." Draco threatened playfully, shifting his grip on his utensil to make his point. 

"Ooh. That was a threat! Five points from Slytherin."

"I'll give you threats you little…" Draco grumbled, laughing despite himself. Ron took the time to stare at them both as if they'd gone completely off their rockers before returning to his conversation with Sirius. 

"Oh, please Draco? Can't I have just a bit?" Harry's hand dipped unseen below the other boy's waist, rubbing softly at Draco's crotch. The blonde coughed, startled at the Gryffindor's boldness, and carefully pried his hand away, hoping desperately no one had caught that.

"Sure." He half-croaked, still out of sorts. "Just - eat it already." Draco quickly took a sip of his pumpkin juice while Harry smugly took a bite of his mashed potatoes. The Slytherin couldn't help but turning a little to get a glimpse of the utterly satisfied expression on Harry's face. He just looked so cute when he was being a bastard.

Harry laughed softly, his chuckles tickling the back of Draco's neck. "Thanks, Draco."

"I didn't want the potatoes anyway." He said sulkily.

"Yes, but _I _wanted them, which means you would've eaten them anyway."

Draco had to admit this was true. "Well. Yes. So?"

"Nothing, Draco." Harry said quite happily, wrapping his arm back around Draco's waist snugly. It was a comfortable half-embrace, casual enough not to be noticed by any of the others at the table. The Gryffindor squeezed a little and the gesture warmed Draco.

Really, perhaps a week at the Burrow wouldn't be all that bad.  


To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	14. Happy Birthday, Harry

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: Sorry about the fact it took so long to update - I had a bit of writer's block and RL stuff to do. Anyway, at least it's out now, right? This chapter's short, but the next one should be coming soon. 

Warnings for this chapter: Language. 

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

After dinner, which was delicious despite the fact everyone was more than a little uncomfortable, they all moved to the living room. Mrs. Weasley charmed the dishes to clean themselves and shooed everyone out of the kitchen. Draco found himself, through some odd twist of fate, sandwiched between Harry and the Weasel. Draco almost wished he was back in the kitchen.

The redhead gave him a long suspicious look that Draco was more than happy to return. They eyed each other warily with mutual distaste. Up close, Weasley appeared to be one big freckle and Draco opened his mouth to say as much when, fortunately for everyone involved, he was interrupted. "Stop that right now, you two." Granger said bossily, planting herself on Ron's other side. "Just _try_ to get along for a bit, for Harry's sake."

Draco didn't bother to reply, but he did stop sneering at the other boy.

Suddenly, the lights went out and Mrs. Weasley stepped out of the kitchen, levitating a huge, white birthday cake with seventeen candles stuck in it in front of her. The cake was a tad lopsided, but otherwise looked fine. Harry was so excited he was practically thrumming with energy. Everyone was smiling at the dark haired Gryffindor and nudging each other at his obvious delight. Draco couldn't help but be charmed at Harry's childlike enthusiasm. 

The singing was as awful as Draco expected, but the way Harry's eyes were shining more than made up for it. "Now, everyone be careful with the cake! If anyone spills they'll be sleeping out in the shed. That means you, Miss Messy." She said pointedly to Ginny who turned a violent shade of red sunk down in her seat, humiliated.

"_Mum_!" She wailed, making everyone laugh good-naturedly at her expense.

"Oh, don't worry Gin. Mum's too soft a touch to really throw you out into the shed. She'd just make you sleep in the attic with the ghoul." Bill said jokingly, winking at his little sister.

"Now, now. Enough of that." Arthur Weasley said cheerily. "Let's eat that cake, hmm? Doesn't it smell scrumptious? You've done a bang-up job, Molly-love!"

"Why, thank you Arthur. Now, blow out the candles Harry and make a wish."

Harry thought for a moment then smiled and leaned forward to extinguish the candles. They went out, smoking lightly in the room. Someone turned the lights back on while everyone clapped and whooped.

"Do we get to eat now?" Charlie said, looking at the cake longingly. He wasn't the only one; the twins were practically salivating from where they were perched on the arms of Bill's overstuffed armchair.

"Yes, dear. Here, Sirius, why don't help me cut the cake?"

"Of course."

For a while, pandemonium reigned as the clatter of plates, conversation, and moved furniture filled the sitting room. Draco found himself exchanging a grin with Harry. "What did you wish for?"  


"I can't tell you or it won't come true." Harry said with a grin, looking down at his plate. Mrs. Weasley had given him a huge slice and it was threatening to slide right off if he wasn't careful.  


Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. "Alright, then. If you insist on being mysterious I suppose there's nothing I can do about it." He took a bite of his own cake, which was every bit as yummy as it looked. Conversation lulled as everyone took the time to enjoy Mrs. Weasley's superb baking skills. Even Peter Weasley or whatever his name was had stopped talking about his job at the Ministry long enough to primly nibble at his piece of cake. Sirius was practically shoveling it down and even Granger was looking delighted, despite her dislike of all things cavity-inducing.

Then Granger started shoving presents Harry's way and the flurry of ripped wrapping paper and ribbons kept Draco's lover occupied for quite some time. Granger gifted him with new spectacles, ones with a nicer frame that had an unbreakable charm on them as well as something to prevent fogging. Percy Weasley (Draco was surprised to note that his name wasn't actually Peter) gave Harry a book entitled, _How to Defeat a Dark Lord in Twelve Easy Steps by Humphrey Hastings_ while Charlie presented him with a nice pair of dragonhide boots. Bill, the gay Weasley, as Draco had come to think of him, had given the Boy Who Lived the _Revised Edition of Quidditch Through the Ages_ with a ton of signed autographs in it from all the current famous Quidditch players. Sirius' present was too bulky to move to the Weasleys, but Harry was pleased all the same when he heard what it was. Sirius was gifting him with an old motorcycle that they immediately decided to fix up together. It was terribly cute, in a father-son sort of way and Harry was so excited he was almost bouncing in his seat.

Remus gave Harry a red Gryffindor jersey that seemed as if it would fit him well, which he informed everyone had been James Potter's lucky shirt, while the twins handed Harry a basket of some of their jokes. Ginny gave him a Many Magical Disguises Kit that came with tons of things to change the average wizard's appearance from stick-on warts to fake noses. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ron were beaming with pride at their own cleverness when Harry came to their joint present.

"Open it up, Harry!" Ron urged enthusiastically.

Mrs. Weasley twittered her agreement. "Oh yes dear, you'll just love it!"

"Okay. Um." The Gryffindor, smiling slightly to himself, pried open the small box they'd shoved in his hands. "Wow! Tickets to the next Puddlemere United match! There's so many!"  


"Yeah, Dad won a lottery at the office." The Weasel explained, grinning merrily. "There's enough there for everyone to go, even Malfoy." The last was said with a dirty look in Draco's direction that Slytherin ignored with dignified silence.

Harry hugged Mrs. Weasley and even clasped an arm around Ron for a second or two, clapping the other boy on the back as he did so before moving away. Draco felt a twinge of irrational jealousy that he managed to ignore. "This is brilliant, you guys! I've never had a birthday this nice. Thanks so much! Wow! When's the match?"  


"This Wednesday. It's why we invited you to stay the week, really, though we'd insist on having you over anyway." Mr. Weasley chimed in, putting his arm around his wife who looked as if she was barely restraining herself from pinching poor Harry's cheeks.

"Oh, you precious child!"

"Molly, love, leave off. Harry still has a few more presents to open, isn't that right?"  


Harry peered at his pile of wrappings and demolished boxes where a gold wrapped box peeked out from under it all. "Only one, Mr. Weasley." He turned to grin at Draco, his green eyes dancing with amusement. "It's yours, right? I can tell, with all that fancy wrapping." Harry fingered the ruby colored silk ribbon, still grinning.  


"Yes, it's my present for you. Go on and open it, already." Draco pretended to be nonchalant, but in all honesty he was nervous. After all, it was his first present to Harry and it was awfully personal, but at the time it had seemed like the perfect gift. He darted a glance towards Remus who smiled reassuringly as Harry carefully pulled away the ribbon and removed the wrapping paper.

The dark haired boy looked at the stack of journals, slightly bewildered. "Books? Don't tell me you're turning into Hermione." He teased, shooting Draco a curious glance.

"Just look at them. What do you think?" He asked anxiously, waiting apprehensively to see how Harry would react.

The Gryffindor picked one up and flipped it open to reveal the first page. Neat handwriting covered it, getting progressively smaller after the first two lines, which took up quite a bit of space.

Lily Evan's Diary

DO NOT READ THIS!!!

(This means you, Petunia.)

(No really, I mean it! Leave my diary alone.)

(If you don't put it down right now I'll hex off your nose!)

Harry simply stared, the journal clasped tightly in his hand. He was pale with shock and his eyes were wide behind his new glasses. Draco was uneasy and slightly disappointed at his lover's reaction. He hadn't expected a kiss or anything, but a thank you would have been nice. He found himself explaining to Harry, though really there was no need for it. "Remus helped me find them. There's six in all, I couldn't find the first year. I bought them from a pawn shop in Kent. Are they… do you like them?"  


"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried, obviously excited. Her brown eyes were bright. "You've always wanted to know about your mum! And now you can read all about her life at Hogwarts!" 

"I-" Harry's voice was choked with emotion and he kept his face down so no one could see his expression. "Thanks Draco. It's great. I've um. I've got to use the loo." Harry stood up and rushed out of the room, leaving everyone to gape at his back. 

Draco stared after him, stricken. "Oh Merlin. He hated it, didn't he?"  


"No, no! It was a wonderful gift. Really, it was a lovely thought. Harry just doesn't like to get emotional in front of people." Hermoine said sympathetically. "See, Ron. I told you he wasn't going to give Harry anything likely to kill him." She said, sending a superior look Weasley's way. The red-haired boy rolled his eyes, obviously fed up with her know-it-all attitude.

"Oh, shut up, Hermione."  


"Don't you tell me to shut up!" She replied fiercely, looking like she was about to eviscerate her boyfriend. Fred and George were chortling at them both while Remus politely pretended they weren't causing a fuss.

"I think I'm going to go check on Harry. I'll be right back." Draco hastily made his exit before things became too heated. He quickly darted up the stairs, skipping over one step almost completely covered with pink goo. Ginny craned her neck to watch him leave, but he paid her little mind. There were more important things to deal with.

He followed Harry up the stairs and quickly checked the bathroom which was empty before hesitantly opening the door to Ron's room. Harry was perched on the bed, his elbows braced on his knees and his hands covering his face. Draco shut the door quietly, moving swiftly to his lover's side. "Alright, Harry?" There was a wet sniffle and then Harry nodded, though his face was still buried in his hands. "I didn't mean to upset you. I can take them back if you -"  


"NO!" Harry shouted, whipping around quickly before realizing his wet face was visible and then he hurriedly wiped at his cheeks. "No," He repeated more calmly, though his voice was still a little rough with suppressed emotion. "I love your present, I just… It was too much you know? Dad's jersey and Mum's diaries and a real birthday party with actual presents instead of a bent paperclip and everyone was looking at me and smiling and I was so happy. It - it sort of sprung up on me and then I was crying and I couldn't stop and I just had to get _out_ of there."

"Sshh. It's alright Harry. I understand. It was probably overwhelming and I'm sure the Weasleys understand too. I've never met a more touchy feely group of people." Draco wrinkled his nose at that though before continuing on. "I'm sure they don't care one way or the other. You can do no wrong in their eyes. You could probably burn their house down and they'd still love you."  


Harry gave him a wry, if slightly watery, grin. "And you're probably this close to asking me to do it, aren't you?"

"Possibly." He admitted and was reassured to hear the Gryffindor laugh. Draco took advantage of his returning good mood to sit next to him on the bed and slip an arm around him. The other boy rested his head against Draco's shoulder, sighing deeply from what must have been the bottom of his soul. There was a moment of silence and exchanged comfort while Draco placed a kiss against Harry's forehead and pulled him closer to his side. "Finished being a Hufflepouf yet?"

"Fuck off." Harry said mildly, wrapping an arm around Draco's waist and catching one of the blonde's belt loops with his fingers.

"Really, Harry, how scandalous! And in your best friend's bedroom too? Tsk, tsk." Draco pretended to be offended, which only made Harry roll his eyes. 

Draco glanced at the other boy's face and was glad to see he was starting to cheer up a little. Harry really had been overwhelmed, by his own feelings and also by so much open affection aimed directly at him. The Slytherin knew enough about his lover to guess that loosing control of his own emotions in front of so many people had only made the situation worse for Harry. "Better now, love?" He asked in a quieter voice, the one usually saved for when they were both naked. Harry sighed again, but this time there was a small smile on his lips.

"Yeah, I'm better now."

"Good." Draco said, supremely satisfied that he'd managed to help the situation. There was another moment of silence, a comfortable one that Draco broke only a few seconds later. "I don't suppose the Weasleys will let us share a bed, hmm? I mean, with a nice silencing charm we could probably get away with murder. _Ouch_!" Draco made a show of nursing his side where Harry had pinched him. "You're obviously better now if you're up to abusing me."  


"Stop whining, Draco." Harry chided him, obviously amused at his boyfriend's antics. He stood up, pulling Draco to his feet by their joined hands. "Let's go back downstairs and see if there's anymore cake left."  


"Fine." Draco said huffily, letting the other boy tote him out of the room. "But don't think I'm going to stop trying to figure out how to get you into bed with me." He said sulkily, more in the spirit of teasing than anything else.

Harry shot him a brilliant grin over his shoulder, his previous mood blown away like so much dust in the wind. "I'd be disappointed in you if you didn't." And with a challenge like that, Draco knew he couldn't possibly refuse.

It would, at least, make for an interesting visit if nothing else.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	15. Out of the frying pan aka closet and int...

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: The summer's almost over, so there's only one or two more chapters to go before they head off to school. Tell me what you think of Ron. I always find him really hard to write for some reason. He's a bit harsher with Draco than with Harry, for obvious reasons, but I tried to keep him IC without becoming the cliché most slash writers make him. Oh and *'s indicate a change in scene, which only happens once, but I thought I'd let you know anyway. 

Warnings for this chapter: Language. 

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

Draco followed Harry back down to living room and made nice with the Weasleys. He had to endure four more hours of listening to them babble on, all of them talking about their lives and interests, which he really could care less about. He spent most of the evening talking shop with the twins, conversing quietly with Sirius and Remus, or discussing dragons with Charlie Weasley while Harry was rotated around the room so everyone could chat with him and wish him a Happy Birthday personally.

By the time the sun had sunk below the horizon, everyone was yawning and eyelids were drooping. Sirius hugged Harry and clapped Draco on the shoulder before tugging Remus towards the fireplace and flooing back to the cottage. Percy Weasley left with his girlfriend to return to his own flat and the gay Weasley made his excuses and Apparated away, presumably to Cairo where the goblins had a new job for him to do. Quarters were tight, so Draco was not at all surprised to find himself bedded down on the floor of the Weasel's room. Harry and Ron had their own twin beds (which had been transfigured out of one large one) and Draco had a thin, rather dinky sleeping bag and a sad looking pillow. The twins were sharing a room and so were the girls while Charlie had claimed Percy's old room. The attic, with its ghoul and leaky roof, wasn't fit for anyone, so the younger boys had been forced to bunk together. Which would have been fine, if Draco hadn't been forced to sleep on the _floor_ like a peasant.

He waited until the Weasel's snores filled the room and crept into bed with Harry who had been waiting for him to get fed up of the hard floor and flimsy blanket. They settled down together, curled around one another so closely they were practically intertwined, while Draco grumbled to himself under his breath about inferior lodgings and flea infested carpets. The Gryffindor ignored him and wished him pleasant dreams, rearranging Draco's limbs to his liking before falling right to sleep.

Draco, still wrapped around the other boy, sighed to himself and stared at the ceiling and the play of shadows across the white, slightly lumpy surface. Harry was breathing slowly and steadily, radiating warmth. The Slytherin tucked his cold feet under Harry's warmer ones and let his cheek rest against the other boy's chest. He shifted a little to get more comfortable and wondered if perhaps Weasley was distantly related to a Snoring Studdlepod, those odd worms that managed to wheeze approximately as loud as a foghorn while sleeping. They were an endangered species, presumably because all the other forest creatures murdered them messily when their slumber was disturbed. Draco had considered lobbing his pillow at the red head before thinking better of it. For one, his original pillow was sagging rather listlessly on the carpet and for another, Harry was far too heavy to throw about.

He couldn't quite remember falling asleep, but one second it was dark and then next the sun was streaming over his face, warming his lips and prodding him awake. A rumble underneath his ear drew his attention, but Draco managed to keep his muscles lax and feign sleep. Harry's voice was low and urgent, almost hissing with frustration and defensiveness. "I didn't expect you to understand! But it's the way things are now! I'm perfectly sane, Ron. This is what I want - _he's_ what I want." Apparently Draco had woken up in the middle of the conversation, but it obvious exactly what they were talking about. Oh joy and rapture, just the situation he always wanted to be in. That trip to France was looking quite tempting at the moment.

"But - Harry! He's a - but you can't-!" Weasley spluttered, his voice raising incredulously. "It's _Malfoy_!" 

And Draco decided that yes, playing opossum was most definitely the thing to do in this situation. After all, he certainly didn't want to draw the Weasel's wrath upon himself and Harry seemed to have things in hand. And okay, he felt a little guilt, be _he_ wasn't the Gryffindor in this relationship. It was only to be expected.

"And I'm in love with him." _Erk_.

"You're _what_?" Ron screeched loudly. _What he said._ Draco thought dazedly.

Harry's stomach muscles tensed. "Sshhh! You're going to wake him up! And yes, I do alright? I mean, I haven't said it to him yet, at least not while he was awake, but I do and I don't think it's going to change anytime soon, alright?"

"Harry!" By this time the Weasel was sounding desperate. "You can't love that git. I mean, he's _awful _and _mean _and you can't _ever_ tell him you love him or he'll rip you apart from the inside out! It's bad enough being his bloody friend, but dating him?! Are you completely off your nut? How long has this been _going on_?!"

"Since, well. Since we retrieved the skull together." Harry mumbled, so quietly even Draco who was sitting on his chest almost missed it. Ron's big ears caught it though.

"You -argh! That long? That fucking long and you didn't say a _word_ to me?" It sounded as if he was almost frothing at the mouth. 

"Ron, shush! You're going to wake him up!"  


"GOOD! Maybe then he can tell you exactly how he's using you, Harry! USING! YOU! Because he's a bloody Slytherin and he's spent years calling Hermione a mudblood and acting like a stuck up bastard and a few months of snogging isn't going to just put an end to that! You're playing right into his hands!" 

"For god's sake Ron, keep your voice down! And Draco's not using me, alright? He helped me get the skull, hasn't called Hermione that for ages, and just for the record we've done a helluva lot more than snog!" Harry snarled, his temper obviously frayed to the breaking point.  


There was a quiet, choking sound and Draco peeked open one eye to see the Weasel's purple face before shutting it again quickly. Apparently, he was having an apoplectic fit. Draco idly wondered if that shade of vivid purple actually existed in nature. The redhead gurgled once and then wheezed before managing to control himself. "My mind's eye is burning!" He wailed. "Oh bloody, bleedin', sodding, buggering hell! I need to scrub my brain out with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover!"

"Sorry, Ron, I didn't mean to freak you out, but I never wanted anyone as much as I want him. And you're just going to have to accept that because I refuse to choose between my best mate and my boyfriend."

"Malfoy. Is your boyfriend." Weasley said weakly, and the creak of bedsprings announced that his knees had given way and he'd been forced to sit down. "This is insane. The world has gone mad. You don't think - maybe You-Know-Who…?" Ron asked hopefully, cheered up by this logical explanation for his best friend's odd behavior.

"It's real, Ron. No love potions or spells or freaky hypnosis caused this."

"Burst my bubble, why don't you. You really fancy that git? I mean, Harry, you could do much better. What about Bill or - or Justin Finch-Fletchy? Anyone but the ferret!"  


"Please don't call him that." Draco felt Harry's knuckles briefly caressing his cheek. "I can't… I can't explain it Ron. Not so you'd understand, but he acts differently when we're alone. He's clever and witty and really sweet underneath all that Slytherin stuff. I don't want anyone else. Just him." Draco felt that gooey feeling, but luckily, since he was supposed to be asleep, he figured no one had to know.

"But - _Malfoy_!" Weasley yelled, as if that was an argument in and of itself.

"You really don't mind that I'm bisexual?"

"No! I mean, you don't fancy me do you? Because I don't like you like that, mate. Though I have to admit, it'd be an improvement over _him_."

"Don't worry, I don't think about you like that. You're like a brother to me."  


"Yeah, you too mate."  


Oh god, the Gryffindor love fest had commenced and Draco thought his brain was possibly melting from the mushiness of it all. "I really care about him and I'd like it if you two could at least tolerate each other. He's been well behaved so far hasn't he? And the fact he's making an effort at all says tons."  


"Hmph. I s'pose. I still think he's an evil little git though."

"Yeah, well. I can't help who I love, Ron."

There was a moment silence and Draco found himself forcing back a smile. _Ha, Ha Weasley! Who's the wrong sort now, you freckled freak?_ Perhaps he shouldn't have, in all good conscience, been quite so elated that Harry had been arguing with his best friend, but Draco really didn't have a conscience as far as he knew and it felt nice to have someone stick up for him, even if they thought he was asleep at the time. Harry had started to run his finger's through Draco's fringe, just gently smoothing the fine hair away from his face. 

Weasley sighed a deep, mournful sigh any martyr would have been proud of. "I guess," He began grudgingly, his words obviously costing him something. "that if you really love the Slytherin slime-ball, I can tolerate him. Within reason. Just don't expect me to actually _like_ him though!" He tacked on as an afterthought, his voice fierce. 

"I don't think I could have a better friend, Ron." And Draco could _hear_ the beaming smile that was probably spread across Harry's face in his voice.

The Weasel sounded incredibly pleased with himself at Harry's admission. "Yeah, well." There was a rustle of fabric as Weasley shifted on the other bed uncomfortably. "Just uh. Out of innocent curiosity and you know, as your official best mate, uh. Just um." He lowered his voice to a quiet whisper. "Just how far have you gone with Malfoy?"  


"Er."

"Harry, you can tell me! I mean, it's not like I want the visual or anything." Ron amended hastily. "I was just sort of wondering. After all, you know how far I've gone with Hermione."  


"Ron, you didn't have to tell me you've groped Hermione's breasts. I could see it for myself, considering the fact I walked in on you." Harry sounded slightly pained, but underneath that fairly amused.

There was another creak of bedsprings and Draco had to fight not to snicker audibly. "Well? We should talk about these sorts of things. It's what guys do! Blimey, you should hear Charlie go on sometimes."

"Okay, okay! God, I can't believe I'm telling you this. Well, we've sort of um. Gone you know. All the way."

"All the -?"  


"All the way."

"You - with him?

"With Draco."

"Don't tell me you want details too, Weasley?" Draco drawled, finally dropping the charade of sleep. Harry jumped a little and the Weasel actually shrieked briefly in surprise. It was, disappointingly enough, not quite the girly scream Draco was hoping for, but in any case the dramatic flare of saying that line at just that moment was quite satisfying.

"Fuck! Don't _do_ that Malfoy!"

"_Draco_! How long have you been awake?"

Draco sat up, resting his back against Harry's chest and smirking at Weasley who was glaring at him from the bed across from them. "Long enough. Now, don't let me stop your little chat. It was quite fascinating. Educational, some might even say."

"Oh, I'm sure." Harry said dryly. 

"So, just to be clear on this, there will be no pounding of my beautiful face, correct?"

"Correct." There was a short moment of expectant silence while Harry waited for his friend to agree. "_Ron_." The dark haired boy sent his best friend a look.

"Oh, fine. Alright. I'm not going to beat you up for. Eurgh. Shagging Harry. Anything else though is fair game, so keep your nasty insults to yourself."  


Draco nodded. "Fair enough. Now, if you don't mind, I'm off to use the loo. Try not to ravish my boyfriend while I'm away, hmm? After all, you seemed a bit too interested in our sex life for my comfort." Draco slid out of bed, cocking a pale eyebrow at them both.  


Harry simply covered his face while Ron burned a brilliant shade of red out of sheer embarrassment. "Just go, Draco." The dark haired Gryffindor ordered him, his voice muffled behind his hands.  


"As you wish." He made a sardonic bow in their direction and hotfooted it before the Weasel decided it would be more satisfying to break his nose than keep his promise to Harry.

Draco was quite happy with the Harry had so calmly dealt with the situation. He had missed the part where Ron had discovered Harry and Draco in each other's arms, but from what he could tell the whole conversation had gone exceptionally well. Certainly, the fact Draco had survived with all his limbs in tact was nothing to scoff at. There went all his plans to flee to France. Ah, well. He'd take Harry over escargot and silly muggle Eiffel towers any day.

*

The crashing sounds and clangs of numerous frantic Weasleys echoed up the stairs and down the hallway, making Draco wince. The sounds were loud, even through the Weasel's door. Yesterday, the weather had cleared and he'd spent most of the day playing Quidditch with Harry and the others. After an afternoon of hard flying he had gone to bed early, which meant he'd woken up early too and had been able to use the bathroom without any competition. Unfortunately for Harry, who had slept in, all the Weasleys were now awake and demanding to use the loo. The bathroom had turned into an impromptu battleground as each teenager attempted to gain control of the facilities. 

Draco had retreated to Ron's bedroom to let the others duel it out, smelling spring fresh and squeaky clean which had earned him a few hard glares from those who hadn't thought to get up earlier. Breakfast had been a quick affair of eggs and bacon, hurriedly eaten before the horde of redheads could join him at the table. He was currently reading the Daily Prophet in Ron's room, courtesy of his recently renewed subscription. His mouth was twisted in a displeased frown as he scanned the pages of the newspaper. There had been three Death Eater attacks in the past week and though the Prophet didn't actually come out and say it, there was only one group of murderous robed terrorists Draco was aware of. Seven muggles had been killed, two severely injured, three wizards killed, and a great deal of property burned to the ground.

It didn't make for merry morning reading. 

"Malfoy."

Draco lifted his head just in time to see Ron Weasley step into the room and slam the door shut behind him. He had a determined, angry expression on his face and a hard look in his eyes. Draco wet his lips nervously, suddenly wondering just where Harry was.

"Weasel." Draco drawled, turning the page of his newspaper as if unconcerned at the other boy's presence. The redhead favored him a look that, if it could kill, would probably have gutted him right there. His shoulders tensed when he heard the other boy approach, but he was actually started when he felt the other boy's hand against his collar before Weasley hauled him off the bed. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" Draco tried to push out of Ron's grasp, to no avail.

Weasley merely hauled the Slytherin up higher, making Draco wince when his collar went taut against his throat. "What I need to! We're going to have a little chat, Malfoy." Ron was really very tall, taller than the twins even, and his lanky frame was a good deal more solid than Draco's own slender body. In a physical confrontation, it was a forgone conclusion that Weasley could kick his arse to Hogsmeade and back.

"Oh?" He replied, still playing it cool and keeping his voice even. The fingers of his left hand twitched slightly as he wished to feel the smooth length of his wand securely in his grip. His right hand was busy gripping Weasley's wrist to keep himself from choking.

"That's right." The Weasel shoved him up against the wall with unexpected violence, jamming his forearm under Draco's throat, forcing his head back and his breath to come in short, shallow pants. Now Draco was actually afraid and he shifted uneasily on the tips of his toes. In this position, they barely reached the floor. Fuck, where was Harry?! Draco sent a longing glance towards the door and Weasley caught it and grinned. "Harry's busy eating breakfast if you're wondering Malfoy, so don't expect him to come to your rescue."

"I don't need Harry to fight my battles for me, Weasel." Draco spat, still hanging in the other boy's grip like a kitten would if it were being held by the scruff of it's neck. "And I promise if you do anything stupid I'll make you regret it!" All the poisonous venom of a wronged Slytherin was in his voice and it made Weasley a little more wary, which was only sensible considering the fact Draco knew a hell of a lot of dark curses and wasn't picky about giving fair warning to his victims before casting them.

"Listen, you disgusting little git!" Weasley all but roared. "I'm only going to warn you ONE time! If you do anything to hurt Harry, _ever_,I'll beat you so badly your bastard of a father will feel it! You understand me?!" His forearm was pushed heavily against Draco's throat to punctuate his question, making Draco wheeze slightly.

"Perfectly." Draco grit out and the Weasel released him with a disbelieving and slightly disgusted snort. He rubbed at his sore and slightly bruised throat, throwing a nasty glare at the other boy. "And if you _ever _do that again I'll return the favor."

Weasley grimaced. "I don't know why I even bother, Malfoy. This - this _thing_ between you two won't ever work! Sooner or later Harry'll realize _exactly _what sort of scum you are and finally have the sense to leave you! And when he does I'll be laughing my arse off at you."  


"That just goes to show you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." Draco sneered back, brushing past the other boy on his way out. It was far too early for this sort of thing.

"Yeah, just keep telling yourself that Malfoy."  


Draco paused right as he reached the door and glanced over his shoulder, if only because he refused to let the Weasel have the last word. "Oh, go fuck a hippogriff." Stupid, sodding Weasel. Harry was damn lucky he was worth it, his bad taste in best friends not withstanding.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	16. Crucial conflicts

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: Wah. So lately I've had writer's block. I'm sorry it took me so long to update. However, maybe the fact this chapter is a bit longer than the usual chapters helps a little. There's a dramatic action scene in here and I hope it isn't too sudden, but that's the way the story line seemed to have decided to go. Like DM&UF, I'm writing this in four parts (one for each season) and since summer is ending the plot gets a little intense. I hope it wasn't too abrupt - tell me what you think! Also, Draco uses the spell "Recutio" in this chapter. It means 'to strike back, to rebound'. I'm almost positive it's conjugated correctly, but if it isn't and you know the correct form I'd appreciate it if you sent me an e-mail. As it is, my Latin is non-existent so I'll be using it until otherwise notified.

Warnings for this chapter: Language. Extreme violence. Some angst, I guess. And a cliffhanger at the end, for those of you who detest them. 

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

"Hey, Draco!" A cheerful voice piped up, disturbing the Slytherin from his brooding. He was perched on a bench out in the garden, glaring at a gnome that was staring at him from between the foliage of one particularly large bush. It's beard twitched and it's beady little eyes gleamed in the shadows.

Draco bit back a sigh. "Ginny." Draco had finally succumbed to calling the various Weasleys by their first names. Otherwise it was simply too confusing and since he'd promised Harry to behave himself that left him unable to use the usual insults he employed when it came to differentiating between one redhead and the next.

"So er. What are you doing out here?"  


"Enjoying the fresh air." He drawled, lying through his pearly white teeth. While the fact he would prefer to be in another country ravishing Harry was true, it wasn't actually considered an appropriate response.

The girl shuffled her feet awkwardly, blushing a little and Draco felt a pang of sympathy for her against his will. She seemed to be doomed to have awkward crushes on uninterested boys. The silence was thick with tension, though most of it was Ginny's.

Harry suddenly rounded the corner, grinning and obviously in a good mood. He had his Firebolt in one hand and Draco's Quicksilver in the other. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you, Draco. You-" Harry stopped in mid-sentence, pulling up short. His brows furrowed together in a frown. "What's wrong with your throat?" Draco lifted a hand, covering the bruised skin. It was warm, an unhealthy heat radiating from his skin that had nothing to do with his temperature and everything to do with damaged skin.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean nothing. It's all purple and blue!" Draco's skin was pale and delicate. Weasley's grasp hadn't been gentle either so it was no surprise he'd come away from the confrontation with visible marks. He had always bruised easily and probably always would.  


Ginny gasped in shock. "Oh! He's right, Draco! It's turning all sorts of colors! What happened?" To her credit, her distress was quite genuine and she didn't crowd him in her concern either as Pansy would have.  


"Nothing." Draco said more firmly, removing his hand and fiddling with the hem of his short sleeved black tee-shirt. "I had a little incident, that's all. Are we going flying, Harry?"

"Don't try to change the subject! What the fuck happened?"  


"None of your business!" 

"It is when someone hurts you!"  


Draco sneered and Ginny backed away quietly, obviously feeling like the interloper she was. "I'm not a damsel in distress, Potter. I don't need you to rescue me."  


"The marks on your neck say otherwise. Tell me!" Harry insisted, moving forward to stand in front of the pale boy. 

Draco crossed his arms and looked away. "I don't want to cause a scene. Just forget it, Harry."  


"No!"  


"Yes!" Draco shouted back, thankful when the Weaselette finally slipped away. Even the gnome had decided he was better off elsewhere. "It's none of your business! You're better off not knowing, Harry. Just leave it."  


Realization blossomed in the depths of Harry's eyes. "It was Ron, wasn't it? He promised!"  


"Harry!" Draco yelled in frustration, but it was too late. He was talking to the other boy's back. "Harry! You stupid Gryffindor." He subsided with a sigh. "You always have to play the hero, don't you?" He grumbled to himself. And if he felt a glow of warmth in his chest from Harry's protectiveness and anger on his behalf that was entirely his own business.

*

A sunny day, a clear sky, a cool breeze, and a handsome lover at his side - Draco didn't think life could get any better. Well, perhaps if they lost the crowd of shabby redheads, but the Slytherin wasn't counting on it any time soon. Everyone was eager to see the match, which was Puddlemere United vs. the Kenmare Kestrels. The Kestrels were garbed in a particularly noxious shade of green and their fans looked like a sea of shifting slime.

The Weasleys were dressed in blue and sporting little flags that waved themselves and occasionally made cheerful comments, such as "Pop 'em one, Puddlemere!" or "Kill the Kestrels!", which, while violent, were only just considering the fact _no one _could possibly pull off those uniforms. It would at least put the players out of their misery. One brunette's complexion clashed so badly she actually looked sea-sick. Or air-sick, as the case may be.

"This is bloody fantastic weather for a match! And look, there's Oliver!" Ron Weasley crowed, pointing towards one blurring figure making loops around the goal posts. There was a shadow of a bruise under one eye, still swelling slightly. Harry himself had a split lip. Mrs. Weasley had refused to heal them in order to let them learn their lesson about fighting once she'd seen their battle wounds. 

The boys had gotten into a scuffle, or at least so Draco had heard as he hadn't actually seen it, and after that they'd gone back to being friends. Leave it to Gryffindors to bond over a bout of violence. The scuffle had resulted in one sulky Weasel being forced to eat crow in front Draco who had gloated smugly the entire time Ron mumbled his apologies to the other boy. Draco had been satisfied with the apology, though he hadn't actually gone so far as to accept it. After all what was the point of being a Slytherin if you couldn't hold a grudge?

"Sit down boys. George, don't you even dare! Get back here!"

"I'm not George, I'm Fred! Really, Dad, the least you could do is remember which one of us is which." One twin said huffily, shoving his cap back on his head a little to glare at his father.  


"Oh, be quiet George."  


"Damn, thought I'd fooled you that time."

"Just don't let you hear your mother using language like that or she'll have both our hides. Here, Ginny, have a pair of omnoculars."

"Thanks Dad! Too bad we couldn't watch the Chudley Cannons."

"Tell me about it." Ron chipped in. "But this is great too! Look at them go, eh Harry?"

Harry grinned and sat down between Ron and Draco, shielding Draco from his best friend. He'd been doing it for most of the day, as if Draco couldn't take care of himself. And even though he had to put up a token protest, the blond didn't really mind _all_ that much. Certainly, as soon as he got his wand back from Remus and he regained the advantage he'd put a stop to Harry's gestures, but for now there was no reason to bother. The Gryffindor propped his elbows upon his knees and squinted to watch the players soar around in a V formation, their robes flapping in the wind. "They're on Nimbus 2000's, right?"  


"Yeah. They've got a contract with Nimbus and everything." One of the twins piped up from where he was tangling Ginny's pigtails together. Draco thought it might be Fred, though he wasn't quite sure. She squealed indignantly when she caught him at it and hit him on the shoulder, trading seats with her father in order to escape Fred and George.

Arthur Weasley sighed. "Now boys, behave, or you'll have your mother to deal with once the game is over."  


"Sorry, Dad!"  


"Yeah, sorry. We'll just go-"  


"And bother strangers, alright?"  


"Well, it's better than nothing. Shoo! And don't gamble!" He shouted after them, watching their bright heads of copper vanish in the crowd. "Those two are going to be the death of me."

"At least you'll go out laughing." Harry cut in, smiling slightly at nothing in particular. He glanced over at Draco, his eyes softening. "All right there?"

"All right, Harry. You?"

"Yeah, 'm fine. How 'bout you, Ron?"

"I could do with some food." And right on key the Weasel's stomach rumbled.

Mr. Weasley glanced over. "Oh well. Er. Molly packed some food for us. It's in the basket here, Ron. Have a sandwich and some juice."  


"Aw, Dad!"  


"I can go get us something from the refreshment stand, Mr. Weasley." Harry said quietly, sliding his hands into his pockets even though the position was slightly awkward considering he was sitting down. "I was planning on it anyway, so it's no trouble."  


"Oh - I dunno."  


Ron looked up from where he was picking apart a peanut butter and pickle sandwich. His mouth was open and slightly twisted in an expression of disgust while his tongue curled to one side as if it wanted to crawl back down his throat to escape and his eyes were really wide with one eyebrow flying upwards in a gesture of utter disgust. Even Draco couldn't help but laugh. If Weasley knew how to do one thing, it was pull a funny face. The tinge of green underneath his freckles only made it that much funnier. Not to mention the black eye.

"I'll accompany you, Harry. We'll be right back." Draco announced as he stood up, tugging Harry along behind him as they made their way through the row. The crowd was large, but not so big that it caused problems. While Puddlemere was a popular team, it wasn't as if it was a world cup game. However, because it was a such a mediocre event, Harry's presence caused quite a stir. Several spectators pointed at him excitedly while others turned their omnoculars away from the players and towards the uncomfortable Boy Who Lived. "Hurry up Harry, before they decide to swarm you for your autograph."  


"Good idea." Harry said, his eyes scanning their surroundings nervously. They darted through the crowd towards the booth selling refreshments, avoiding one reporter and a flock of giggling girls. It was relatively easy to lose themselves in the crush of bodies considering half of them were dressed in blinding neon green. By the time they finally reached the concession stand they were slightly winded and giddy from the run. Darting through the gaps of the crowd and sliding under people's arms had given them an adrenaline rush and it was all Draco could do to keep himself from laughing out loud at the way Harry's hair stuck up in a silly cowlick on the back of his head.

"Mmm. Look, they have roasted almonds and ooh, Honey Slugs!" The Slytherin was almost bouncing on his toes with excitement, which was a rare thing indeed. Harry merely looked bemused as they stood in line, waiting to order.

"Honey Slugs?" The dark haired boy wrinkled his nose with distaste.   


"They're my absolute favorite sweet! They're like Chocolate Frogs, only it's honey made to look like slugs. Usually you can only find them at Quidditch games. Mother used to buy them by the broomload for me. I don't know how many times I got sick from them; I was a greedy little bugger when I was little. " Draco confessed, moving forward a step or two as the line shortened.  


Harry snorted and grinned. "Really? I never would have guessed." The Gryffindor winced as his split lip pulled a little. "Ow."

"How's the lip?" Draco asked solicitously, pointedly not licking at it even though it was obvious he wanted to. Harry rolled his eyes at the other boy's obvious staring.   


"Fine. Better than Ron's eye, probably." They both snickered together. 

"Speaking of which, what was all that about? I'm aware that you two have argued in the past, but I didn't think you'd _hit_ each other."   


Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well. We only do it when we're really angry at one another. It started fifth year and it really does help our friendship as bizarre as that may sound. I mean, getting it all out there instead of letting it fester. Less resentment builds up that way and sometimes its just nice to get in an all out brawl, y'know? Anyway, Ron shouldn't have done that to you and he knows it." His features went a touch grim for a moment, but then he brightened. "Ginny really gave him a piece of her mind. I don't think I even knew half the words she used." 

Draco had to smile. "Swore up a storm, did she?"

"More like a hurricane." 

They scooted forward a bit more as the people in front of them neared the stand. "Did Weasley spill the beans?"

"About us, you mean?" Harry asked curiously and continued at Draco's nod. "No, I asked Ron not to tell the rest of his family. It's really none of their business. My family and my closest friends know; that's all that matters to me." Their quiet conversation was lost in the line's rather loud chatter, which explained why Harry was willing to discuss their relationship, even obliquely, in public. Not that Draco was eager to see his name splashed across the front pages of newspapers world wide, either, but he was far less worried about the opinion of the wizarding world than the Boy Who Lived, which was understandable.

The couple in front of them sauntered off and Harry and Draco stepped up to take their orders. Draco was determined to get Harry to eat a Honey Slug, even if he had to force feed it to the Gryffindor. Which, now that he thought about it, could be entertaining in its on right.

*

The game was going well. Puddlemere was up by fifty points and one of the Chasers for the Kestrels had already received a broken nose from a stray bludger. Draco licked at his sticky thumb, having just finished up the last Honey Slug. Harry had tried one and while he agreed that it tasted good, apparently the slimy texture and inherent s_lugnes_s of the magical sweet was a little too much for him. The look on his face as it had gone down had been priceless. Draco didn't mind that Harry hadn't liked them; aside from the amusement factor it simply meant more for him.

"Whooo!" Ron hollered, waving his pendant as Oliver Wood blocked a Quaffle from the middle hoop. "The Kestrals are getting their arses kicked!"

Harry laughed merrily at his best friend's enthusiasm, his voice ringing in the warm summer air. His laughter was almost lost in the cacophony of the cheering of the crowd as one of the Puddlemere chasers scored, but Draco knew the sound of it so well he could pick it out easily. It made him smile and he took a moment to glance away from the game to watch Harry's flushed, happy face and glittering green eyes. When he turned back, he noticed the sky darkening on the horizon.

"Looks like it's going to storm." He commented, his brow furrowed uneasily.

Mr. Weasley, who had moved to sit at his other side earlier to better watch the twins, shook his head. "It probably won't amount to much. The Wizard Wireless Weather report said it was going to be a sunny day. It should clear off in a bit." Draco should have felt reassured, but for some reason he didn't.

"I suppose." He finally conceded reluctantly. 

Draco found himself absorbed in the game, watching the players dart around in the sky, their robes flapping around them as they swooped and dived. One of the Puddlemere chasers fumbled the quaffle, while the seeker circled overhead, still in search of the snitch. Draco usually loved Quidditch games, but he found his attention wandering away from the game. Harry was cheering, his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice and Ron was whooping with delight as the Puddlemere Keeper blocked another Quaffle easily and made a rude gesture to the Chaser who had attempted to get it by him.

And then Draco heard the screams.

The Chaser Wood had gestured to faltered, staring white-faced at the edge of the stadium where four forms towered over the crowd. Two giants, one ogre, and a troll. Not to mention the flock of Dementors that glided into view. "Fuck." Ron breathed, his freckles standing out against his pale skin from the shock of it.

Draco finally found his voice, though it was tight with fear when he spoke. "Who, exactly, provided the tickets as a prize for that lottery at the Ministry?"

"Ah, er. Um." Mr. Weasley stuttered. "Ah. Lucius Malfoy."

"I thought so." The Slytherin said grimly.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! WE'RE GOING TO DIE! I MEAN - EVACUATE THE PREMISES CALMLY AND DO NOT PANIC!!! HOLY SHIT!" Blared the commentator, the alarm in his amplified voice obvious.

And suddenly the Dementors were joined by several robed men, all wearing ominous silver masks. "What are we going to do? All the spectators!" Harry said frantically, his head whipping back and forth as he checked out exits and rapidly thought up and discarded various ideas.

"First of all, we need to get you out of here, Harry._ You're _the target."

"I'm not going anywhere, Draco." The crowd was panicking by now and the two giants had advanced and were swatting at the Quidditch players while the troll wreaked havoc on one of the nearby refreshment stands. The ogre was lumbering along towards the spectators' seats with the Dementors and Death Eaters following in it's wake. "We need to get this place evacuated."  


"We need to get you out of here." Draco hissed in agitation. 

"We can't just run away!" Weasley chipped in, nervous seat beading on his forehead. "Can we?" He asked uncertainly, gazing dubiously at the ogre which was heading straight for them.

Mr. Weasley was gathering their things and had Ginny by the arm. "Yes we sodding well can! Hurry!" The bleachers groaned as the ogre wrenched one of the lower rows of seats up and tossed it away where it skidded across the Quidditch pitch and left a nasty track through the green.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed in fearful awe. And then they were scrambling for safety, the twins' matching heads of copper bobbing along in the crowd ahead of them. They managed to get away just in time as the stands collapsed with a loud, resonating groan. A new flurry of screams rose up as a few spectators spooked again.

"We need to get out of here! We need to get _Harry_ out of here." Draco insisted as they pushed their way through the horrified crowd that seemed intent on stampeding past them. Weasley looked at him askance. 

"Why? Harry can help!"  


"Harry's right here! Can he be a part of this conversation, too?" Harry asked sarcastically, still glancing back every now and then as the Dementors moved across the Quidditch pitch, gliding in that eerie way of theirs. Draco saw one witch get Kissed and clamped onto Harry's arm to keep him from running out there and getting himself killed in a foolish, vain attempt to save her. 

Draco growled to himself in frustration. They were now hiding out behind the restrooms, while spells blasted past them. It was chaos out there and Mr. Weasley had his hands full trying to keep Fred and George from charging into battle as he herded everyone towards the various crowded exits. Several Aurors, both those retired and those who had apparently had the day off and decided to catch the game, had joined in on the fray and were holding the attackers off while the spectators escaped the anti-Apparation and portkey interference wards set on the stadium and its stands. The Aurors, both retired and otherwise, were doing an impressive job keeping the enemy at bay. For the moment. An aging wizard crumpled to the ground in a blast of green and Draco found that his hands were trembling. If his heart beat any faster it would probably explode.

He needed to convince Ron that escape was the best choice - preferably as quickly as possible. Harry had that utterly determined look on his face that meant he was trying to figure out a way to get himself killed.

"Look, you play chess right?" He finally asked, that little detail rising up from the depths of his brain to help him out. "Harry's the king, Weasley and whatever we do we can't let them checkmate him! Even if it means sacrificing a few pawns. He's the bloody icon of the wizarding world and he needs to _survive_. Not to mention the fact I'd be rather put out if some ugly bugger of a giant squished him, okay? We need to think of some way to get him, to get _us_, out of here, _now_."

The stadium had started shaking and one of the towers collapsed. The Dementors were moving among the crowd and it was all Ron and Draco could do to keep Harry from pulling his usual stupid heroics. Sometime during the last five minutes, they'd lost track of the other Weasleys and a Dementor was heading straight for them. Ron's expression was serious and suddenly Draco felt a bit of kinship with the other boy. They had the same goal after all and keeping Harry from getting into trouble was definitely a job for more than one person.

"We can snag a spare broom or two if we could get to the locker rooms." Weasley finally offered, looking pale, but determined. Draco was relieved they'd finally settled on a plan of action. His own brain felt stuffed with cotton and he knew anything he came up with wouldn't be worth shit.

Harry wrenched himself out Draco's grasp. "What are you talking about?! We need to fight! People are getting _killed _out there -"  


"And you can't help them if you get yourself killed too, Harry! I hate to say it, but I agree with Malfoy. We need to get the fuck out of here. I just hope Gin and the others are okay."  


Draco found himself giving the other boy a coolly reassuring look. "Your brothers know how to take care of themselves and your father can keep himself and your sister safe. We need to go, _now_." And he felt a searing coldness travel down his spine and his father's voice echoed oddly in his head. "_You could have been a great Malfoy, if you'd been even a bit of a man_."  


"_Expecto Patronum_!" Harry snapped out, his wand clenched tightly in his hand, and the Dementor took one look at the silvery stag that had appeared and turned to flee. And just like that Harry was in control. He didn't even look frightened if you ignored the fact his knuckles were white with strain as he gripped his wand, he was so calm and utterly in charge. Gryffindor to the core. "Let's circle around the back; the troll is the least dangerous of them all. C'mon." Draco found himself following Harry, darting under a misshapen arch or two and scrambling over rubble. The pitch itself was in complete ruins and bodies were strewn about. Draco had to swallow several times to keep from vomiting - the smell of smoke and magic filled the air along with a metallic scent that couldn't be anything but blood. 

It was all too much - a nightmare made real with the sounds of screams and crashes still echoing over the pitch. One giant roared as an Auror blinded it, stumbling a little before it smashed right into the commentator's tower, causing it to buckle over drunkenly. It wavered for a moment in the air and fell across the pitch and a few injured witches and wizards with a resounding crash while the giant continued batting at the air and clutching its wounded eyes. Dust billowed up in thick clouds, rushing outwards with a _whoomp_ of displaced air. Draco coughed and raised his shirt over his nose and mouth to help him breathe. Everything was being covered in gray and Harry's back was a distant shadow in front of him despite the fact he was only a few feet away.

Draco hurried up, tripping over a stray piece of stone before finally reaching Harry's side. Ron was scrambling to keep up with him too, nursing his neck where a piece of stray shrapnel had cut him when the commentator's tower fell. The other two boys had followed Draco's example and were pulling the collars of their shirts up to cover the lower half of their faces. Harry's glasses were sooty with grit, though he seemed not to mind or, more likely, care.

Draco felt himself twitching nervously as the cloud of dust shifted around them, obscuring the rest of the stadium. His heart sounded unbearably loud in his ears and his mouth was bone-dry. The urgency welling up inside him made his pulse skitter rapidly and he just wanted to get OUT of there as quickly as possible before something awful happened because somehow, Trelawny's joke of a class aside, he knew it would the way he knew the sun would rise each morning. It seemed hopelessly inevitable.

They wandered through the dusty gray shadow-scape determinedly, stumbling a little over wreckage now and again, but keeping up a steady pace. Harry paused when a low moan drew his attention and, his features grim, he levitated a particularly large piece of stone off an injured witch. "We can't leave her here. Draco, you don't have your wand. Can you carry her?"  


He eyed the witch who, while not overweight, was still considerably larger than Draco's slender frame. "With a feather-weight charm, yes." This time Weasley took care of the spell-casting and the Slytherin crouched down to get a better look at the witch. She was in her late forties and one of her arms was broken beyond all recognition and a few of her ribs looked to be either cracked or at least heavily bruised. Draco eased the woman's good arm over his shoulder and stood slowly, levering her to her feet carefully while Harry and Ron kept watch on their surroundings. Once they were both stranding straight, he bent down a little and hefted her over his shoulder, hoping he didn't hurt her ribs anymore than they already were. "Okay. Okay, I've got her. Let's get the hell out of here."  


They started moving again, a distant thump, thump, thump signaling that the troll was moving away from them steadily. Relieved, Draco kept close to Harry's side and navigated the rubble carefully lest he jar the injured witch on his shoulder. Finally, after what seemed to be ages of tense silence, they reached the locker rooms. Harry quickly began to rummage through everything while Ron helped Draco carefully set the woman onto a bench. "Do you know anything about Healing?" Draco asked anxiously as the woman stirred, her eyes opening a little.

"Wha?"

"Try not to move, ma'am." Ron said in a low, soothing voice before turning to answer Draco quietly. "I know a little about Healing, Malfoy. I grew up with five big brothers. But I'm not an expert or anything."

"Well, it's more than I know. Heal her and then give me your wand."

"What? Are you out of your mind?!" Ron yelped, clutching his wand possessively.

Draco waved his protests away with impatience. "I don't have mine and someone needs to keep a lookout on the door, okay? You know how to take care of her and I don't, plus I know a lot of nasty curses if it comes to that. So just do the sensible thing Weasley and stop wasting time. Lives are at stake here."  


"Fine. Just let me - um. Hurry up and bind these ribs and do something with her arm. Demon's oath, that's nasty." Ron swore, wrinkling his nose up.

"Whatever - just fix it as best you can and then give me your wand." Draco demanded, shifting uneasily. The entrance was unguarded as Harry riffled through the player's belongings in search of spare brooms and it was making the Slytherin nervous. Rule number one of survival was watch your back, a rule they were at the moment fragrantly breaking. Finally, _finally_, Weasley was done and while the woman didn't look much better she had slipped back into unconsciousness and the tight lines around her mouth and eyes had eased as the pain ebbed away. Draco snatched Weasley's wand and strode quickly to the locker room entrance, planting himself behind the door where he could peer out through the crack at the gloom outside.

The dust was starting to settle and it looked like most of the spectators had managed to activate their portkeys early and escape once they'd left the stadium and the confines of the Quidditch wards. Unfortunately for the boys, once they'd lost track of Arthur Weasley they'd lost their easiest escape route. Everything depended on finding usable brooms for them to flee on and while Harry had found one, he was still searching frantically through all the lockers for another. They could double up, if it came to that, but one broom was certainly not going to cut it.

"I think we may actually get out of here in one piece." Weasley said. He was biting his lip, but he had a hopeful look in his eyes. 

And just as Draco heard those words he saw several cloaked figures striding off the pitch towards the locker room - and them. "You just had to fucking say it, didn't you?" He snapped, eyes narrowed to silver slits of fury. He tried to summon up all his anger and rage, because he knew he'd need it shortly. The Dark Arts always required some form of negative energy to be cast and for Draco wrath had always been the easiest. The Slytherin wasn't going to bother wasting time casting Leg-locker curses or other similar hexes on Death Eaters. Silly little first years spells were useless against adult Dark wizards with years of experience in the dark arts and a talent for murder. And he'd been waiting for an appropriate time to finally put Lucius' lessons to good use.

"I've found another broom!"

"Good, just in time! Is there a back way?" Ron shouted back, glancing uneasily to the approaching Death Eaters.

"Yeah, it's right through there. What-?" Harry interrupted himself with a gasp of recognition.  


"Death Eaters." Draco said evenly. He hoped Harry and Ron couldn't tell he was terrified, though at this point he probably had the right to be. "Get her on the broom would you? They're almost here." Harry drew his wand and stood shoulder to shoulder with Draco as Ron attempted to maneuver the injured witch onto the broom with him.

She slipped out of Ron's sweaty grasp and he caught her at the last moment. "Fuck! Harry, a little help here?"

"They're almost here, Ron!"  


"We need to get out and we can't if we can't get her on the soddin' broomstick!" Harry squeezed Draco's shoulder reassuringly and hustled towards the back of the locker room while Draco threw back the door and assumed a dueling stance, his jaw set with determination. Before the Death Eaters could get any closer and he cast a spell on the ground to soften it dangerously and one lumbering man had the misfortune of sinking neck deep into it. He flailed around, bellowing, while his comrades silently countered the spell and moved around him, their robes billowing darkly. They faced Draco in a crescent, fanning out easily to face him.

"Let us by, little boy." One deep voice intoned and Draco could tell from the tone he was smirking cruelly behind his mask. It sounded vaguely like Wilkes or Rosier; Draco had never been able to tell the two apart.

"Make me, you sorry sack of shit." 

A nervous giggle echoed from the back of the locker room as Ron caught his reply. The Death Eater, however, took it in stride. "If you insist. _Imperio_!"

"_Recutio_!" The spell bounced back, but dispersed against the Death Eater's warded robes. Draco had little experience with the Unforgivables and was unable to control the spell, even on the rebound. On the other hand, he hadn't expected to. He quickly followed it up with a nasty disarming spell. Disarming as in _literally_. The man's wand hand jerked and he yanked back his sleeve in a panic to watch as a line of crimson blossomed below his elbow. The lower part of his arm slid away seamlessly, Dark Mark gleaming against pale bloodied skin, as the man screamed in a high pitched shriek of agony.

"Bloody hell, what's he doing out there?" Came Ron's muffled voice.

"I don't know." Harry replied tersely, his own voice echoing off the tiles. "Get her out of here - I'm going back for him."  


"Harry!"  


"Don't! He hasn't even reached the corridor yet!" 

Draco almost couldn't hear their quiet struggle. He didn't pay the conversation much mind, as he was too busy setting up his own magical shields and snapping off curses at his attackers. He was barely holding them back, _barely_, and one arm hung limp at his side from a bone-cracking curse that had slipped under his guard. Luckily, it was his right hand or else he'd have dropped his wand. He had set one Death Eater on fire, but the flames had been put out quickly and another was now buried in a pile of robes, squeaking anxiously as its whiskered snout sniffed at the air. The Death Eater turned mouse scampered off as curses volleyed back and forth and Draco started backing up, leading the Death Eaters through the hallway. There was only room enough for them to approach two at a time once he'd lured them inside, but on the downside, he could only retreat so far before they had a clear shot at Ron, the witch, and Harry.

Luckily, the Death Eaters seemed tired from whatever they had been doing in the stands or else Draco would have died a while ago. At the moment, they couldn't risk the Killing curse. The hallway was small and the walls were close together and it was not unheard of for a magical spell to bounce off a solid object. Earlier, they hadn't thought Draco was enough of a challenge to merit using their remaining energy to cast an Avada Kedavra on him and by the time they realized he was, it was too late. But that was only to Draco's advantage. Harry and Ron were still arguing fiercely. "Get ready, Potter!" Draco took the time to shout, ducking a Cruciatus curse which bounced off the tiles and hit one of the Death Eaters. His knees buckled and the other Death Eaters inched by him, leaving him to his pain. "I'll be there in a minute, okay?!" He sent a Confundus curse at the Death Eaters, hoping it would be enough to give him the few precious seconds he needed to escape.   


He turned to join the other two boys and something slammed into his back, sending him reeling towards the ground. "_Crucio_!" Agony flared up and Draco screamed, almost sobbing from the pain of it. And then he really was sobbing, writhing on the ground as tears streamed down his face. His dignity meant nothing - his world was pain; searing pain, dull pain, and more pain than he thought it was possible to feel until his nerves sang with it. He kept jarring his arm which only made it that much worse, but it hurt too much to stay still. A robed figure moved to stand in front of him and Draco could distantly hear Harry's voice shouting desperately. A dark, blurred figure stood above him, hovering malevolently.

"_Avada Ke_-" The Death Eater began to intone.

A harder, colder voice interrupted him. "_Avada Kedavra_." The Death Eater crumpled to the ground with a flash of green and Draco could hear Harry screaming. It was a terrible, wrenching sound of grief that suddenly cut itself off moments later. The Slytherin realized that Harry had, for a second, thought Draco had been killed. "_Finite Incantatum_. Get up, boy."

The pain receded, still there, but bearable. "Father?" Draco whispered disbelievingly, staring at the masked figure in front of him. 

"Up!" He demanded impatiently, his voice curt. Draco had lost Weasley's wand, but he probably couldn't have used it anyway with the way Lucius was almost yanking Draco's arm out of its socket as he pulled him to his feet. His father pushed him out of the way as another Death Eater raised his wand at them and Draco went reeling backwards, sprawling as the ground rushed up to meet him. 

The back of his head clipped a bench as he fell, color bursting behind his closed eyelids briefly like fireworks, and then Draco knew no more.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	17. Aftermath of the Attack

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: So, finally, you can read the follow up to that last evil cliffhanger. Lucius' weird behavior doesn't get explained until a little later on in the chapter, so be patient. There's one or two scenes in this chapter as well as a few references to OoTP. Nothing too spoilery or important, though, just little details borrowed from canon. There's also an extra Author's Note at the end of the chapter concerning Harry's fifth year. Happy reading! 

Warnings for this chapter: Smut. Language. The guest star appearance of several barnyard animals. You think I'm joking? Ha.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

Draco's first coherent thought was _ouch_.

His vision was a little blurry and everything felt fuzzy through the haze of pain and confusion. He could feel the wind rushing past him, ruffling his hair and tugging at his robes and he could tell by the way his stomach seemed to be attempting to crawl up his throat he was flying. Something jolted his broken arm and he made a quiet noise of protest at the rough handling. "Just stay still, Draco. I've got you." Harry's voice was right near his ear and Draco was surprised to notice it was Harry's arms that were keeping him immobile. A flash of red out of the corner of his eye let him know Weasley was nearby. 

"Hurts." He slurred, wincing. His head lolled back against Harry's shoulder and his eyelashes fluttered as he fought to stay conscious.

Harry's arms tightened imperceptibly around him. "I know. I'm sorry. Just hang in there, Draco." Before Draco could reply, Harry had to swerve the broom they were both doubled up on in a short dive to avoid an owl crossing their flight path. Another wave of pain crashed over Draco at the sudden, plunging movement and he let himself slip back into unconsciousness, where it was dark and still and peaceful, to escape it. 

*

Draco woke slowly, struggling out of a sleep inch by inch until finally he found himself awake. His body ached all over, mainly in his joints, and his right arm burned in deep, painful pulses. There was a solemn quiet in the room, the kind afforded to the ill and injured. Biting his bottom lip from the effort, the Slytherin managed to take stock of the room as his head swum dizzily. White walls, bright wizard lamps, and the smell of old tinctures and linen; St. Mungo's then. 

Draco had been ill once, as a child, and he still remembered the strange antiseptic smell of the place and the hustle and bustle of the busy Healers. He felt that same all-consuming exhaustion too, though the recollection of it had faded with time and the sensation he felt now was quite immediate, if not pleasant. He struggled to sit up, finding himself short of breath far too quickly. 

It took a moment to realize there was someone next to him as he came fully alert and the fog of sleep lifted completely. Not two inches from Draco, Harry lay sleeping quietly in a chair by the bed, his upper body resting across the mattress. He looked haggard; tired and worn thin with worry. His hair was a riotous mess of black spikes and there were smudges of dirt and grime across his cheek and forehead. He had propped his head up on his folded arms and turned his face to the side so that his sooty glasses had slipped to the end of his nose and were threatening to fall off completely. Draco carefully plucked them from his face and folded them, stretching to set them on the bedside table.

His arm merely twinged at the movement and Draco took the time to inspect it, flexing his fingers and prodding at the healing bone. It still hurt, but it was a healing kind of pain; the sort that meant things were knitting themselves up and settling back into their correct places. The bone-breaking curse had done quite a number on him, but bones were easy to heal - it was the Dark Magic that had probably given the Healers trouble. Curses cast with an intense desire to harm were far harder to fix than mere hexes and spells gone awry. And having the Cruiciatus Curse cast on him hadn't done him any favors, that was for sure.

Harry was still sleeping, his brow furrowed and his mouth pressed into a hard line even as he slumbered. Draco couldn't resist stroking his hand across Harry's face, the backs of his fingers lingering along the smooth curve of the other boy's cheeks. Down towards his chin, the short stubble caught on Draco's fine skin, dragging with a rasp across his knuckles. The Gryffindor turned his face into the caress slightly, automatically moving to follow the affectionate gesture. Draco combed Harry's wild hair out of his face, enjoying the glossy feel of it against his fingers as he ran them through it again and again in a soothing pattern.

The door creaked open and Draco's head whipped around quickly. "Thought you were awake." Mad Eye Moody said laconically, eyeing Draco's hand which was still buried in Harry's hair. His mouth twitched, but he made no comment and that creepy eye of his rolled around to stare at Draco from it's sunken socket. The Slytherin shivered a little under the ex-Auror's gaze. He hated Mad Eye Moody. To be fair, the ferret incident had nothing to do with him, but Draco couldn't help but associate that humiliating memory with him anyway. Then there was his fifth year, when Moody had been the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor and had followed Draco everywhere, suspicion written in every line of his craggy face. No, Draco had no fondness for this man, beyond the fact he was one more body to stand between Harry and the Dark Lord.

"Where -" Draco's dry voice cracked and he cleared his throat, wetting his lips slightly before speaking again. "Where am I? St. Mungo's?"  


"Yeh. Fourth Floor. Private ward. Potter made sure of that." Which explained the odd quiet of his room. St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries had to be busier than a beehive at the moment, but here everything was as silent as the grave. Draco, under normal circumstances, would have been subjected to a great deal of noise and hubbub in a smaller, more public ward, especially after the Death Eater attack when no doubt plenty of victims had swarmed the hospital in vast numbers. Harry, however, had quite a bit of a influence and if he'd wanted Draco to be put somewhere quiet and out of the way, well. That's where Draco was put, no questions asked beyond possibly the one requesting his autograph.

"Ah." Draco said, suddenly understanding. "And the Weasleys?"  


"All of 'em are fine, though Molly's having fits."

Draco felt himself smile reluctantly. "I can only imagine."

"Ugh?" Harry grunted, waking up at the sound of their voices. He patted around absently for his glasses, his eyes screwed up in an exaggerated squint as peered around nearsightedly. Finally, Draco snagged them and handed them to the other boy, watching as Harry slid them on and blinked. "Draco! You're awake! Thank god!" The relief in his voice was palpable. 

"I'll just be outside the door." Moody said, before thumping his way back outside. His peg leg made an odd little sound against the tiled floor as he left. Draco wondered if he was keeping guard on them. Then he realized that _of course _Moody would be keeping an eye on them after the attack, Harry especially.

Harry was staring at him, his eyes wide and dark with pain and guilt. Then Slytherin could almost see the litany of _I'm sorry it's all my fault my fault my fault can't do anything right shouldn't have let you get hurt my fault I'm sorry _running behind those green Killing Curse eyes of his. "I'm sorry Draco. It's all my fault. If I hadn't been there -"

"Oh shut up." Draco said irritably. "I don't want to hear about your stupid inflated sense of responsibility. It's _not _your fault. And believe me, if it was I'd be the first to tell you. So, what you're going to do is this. You're going to get me something to drink and then you're going to tell everyone I've regained consciousness while you're at it. After that, you will attend my every whim until I get better and if I hear one guilty whine out of you I'll make you suck my cock so at least that way your mouth will be full and I won't have to hear you going on about it. Okay?" He was tired and sore and he had no time for Harry's peculiar habit of blaming everything on himself. Draco was not a good patient at the best of times and this was no exception to the rule. He glowered at the other boy in order to drive home his warning.

And, inexplicably, Harry grinned at him, a charming lopsided affair that made even Draco's dour mood soften slightly. The Gryffindor's weariness had seemingly melted away in the face of his amusement. "Okay, Draco."

Draco looked at him suspiciously. "That's it? No protests."

"No protests. Besides, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley wanted to see you as soon as you woke up. Just to say hi. The Healer says you'll be able to check out tomorrow."  


"What do you mean _tomorrow_?" Draco asked sharply. 

"I mean the day after today." Harry said firmly. "The Healer insisted you stay overnight. I'm staying with you, don't worry, but you shouldn't leave just yet. You're not completely well yet."

"But-"

"No, Draco." Harry said evenly, but there was an intensity to his voice and a stubborn set to his jaw that Draco instinctively knew not to cross. He found himself thrusting his bottom lip out a little in protest, not that he was _pouting_ or anything. Well, maybe just a little.

"Well, what are you just staring at me for then? My mouth is dryer than a camel's arse."  


The Gryffindor snorted with laughter. "One glass of water, coming right up. And Draco?"  


"Yes?"

"I'm glad you're okay." The sincerity in his voice, the genuine _caring_, made a lump form in Draco's throat. It took him a moment to figure out how to work his voice properly again.

"Well, that makes two of us then."

Harry started to walk away, then reversed before he'd gotten three steps away like he'd suddenly remembered something. He turned around and captured Draco's mouth with his own, sliding his hands into the other boy's tawny hair and tilting his head back as he tried to devour Draco whole. The Slytherin gasped into his mouth, tongue twisting around Harry's as he lost himself in the flavor and feel of the other boys lips and tongue and teeth. When Harry pulled back, several minutes later, Draco felt dazed and his lips were swollen and moist, colored a pretty pink.

Harry grinned at him again. "I'll be right back in a few minutes. Okay?"  


"Sure." Draco agreed complacently, still dazed from the kiss.

"Good." The Boy Who Lived turned to leave and before the door shut behind him. Draco found himself quickly drifting off to sleep again without Harry as a distraction, but the tingling of his lips and the slightly too fast thump of his heart in his chest told him that he wouldn't be left alone for long. Which was, of course, just the way it was supposed to be.

*

The Healer decided to let Draco leave early, reassuring Harry one last time that the blond was healing well and it was perfectly safe to take him home. Harry was dubious, but finally caved under the combined weight of Draco's complaining and the Healer's professional opinion. Draco suspected the Healer had mainly changed his mind because the hospital was quickly running out of room. On top of the Death Eater attack, a group of travelers had splinched themselves while attempting to Apparate into a warded area and the all the rooms on the fourth floor were quickly being filled up.

At any rate, it got him out of St. Mungo's so Draco didn't really care about the reason behind his swift departure. He was simply thankful he'd gotten lucky and was able to escape the madhouse that was St. Mungo's. 

Sirius and Remus picked them up in the waiting room, obviously relieved. It was from them that Draco learned the Ministry of Magic was finally admitting Voldemort had returned, if only because of the attack, which had been dubbed the Puddlemere Massacre by the Daily Prophet. That wasn't the only front page news, however. Somehow, the media had discovered the location of Black Cottage, which even Voldemort had failed to do, and had proceeded to camp themselves on Sirius' doorstep.

Which meant they'd have to move, if only to escape the reporters who were circling like vultures, desperate for a comment from the Boy Who Lived and his makeshift family. 

Sirius looked tired and rumpled, but happy. He slung an arm over Harry's shoulder and hugged him to his side, reassured at the solid feel of his godson next to him. "Dumbledore suggested we hide out in the Order's Headquarters for a while until all the hubbub dies down. The Ministry is still trying to find out who leaked to the press, so we can't trust them to find proper lodgings for us at the moment. And there's no way we can get through that zoo outside the cottage." Remus grimaced at the reminder, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.

"Where exactly is the Order's Headquarters?" Harry asked, rolling his shoulders to ease the cramp he had gotten from sleeping in an awkward position to be near Draco.

Sirius grimaced. "Well, there's a few to choose from, really. But Moony thinks we should somewhere we're familiar with so that narrows down our options. There's the townhouse I inherited from my mother, but I'd rather snog Buckbeak than stay there so that leaves us with Black Manor. I never thought I'd have to see that gloomy pile of moldering stones again." The ex-convict sighed, running a hand through his shoulder length hair.

"It's not all that bad, is it?" Draco asked, rubbing at his aching arm. 

"Bad enough. But it's better than 12 Grimmauld Place and at least we won't have to worry about the paparazzi if we're at the Manor. Even they wouldn't dare to go knocking on _those _gates." He looked up from where he'd been inspecting his shoes, taking in the way Draco was swaying on his feet and the tired lines around Harry's eyes. "You look beat, come on boys."

Before they left, Sirius owled Dobby and had him pick up their things from the cottage and move them to Black Manor with his house elf magic. Then, the four wizards stumbled outside, only to be met at the curb by Mad Eye Moody who was determined to keep guard on his charge during the trip to the Order's Headquarters. Draco didn't really see the point himself. They were with a werewolf, not to mention the only man who had escaped Azkaban with his sanity intact, so there was no reason for Moody to tag along. And Harry was more than capable of looking after himself, but they were all so tired no one bothered to argue with the retired Auror. It simply wasn't worth the effort.

The Knight Bus was more than adequate transportation, though with Mad Eye Moody along for the ride it was slightly uncomfortable. Draco spent the trip curled up next to Harry in a huge armchair, dozing off at random intervals with his head resting against the other boy's shoulder. When they finally reached Sirius' ancestral home, Draco couldn't help but find himself slightly impressed.

The manor itself was huge, made in the late fifteenth century when architects began to abandon defense for decoration. It loomed in the distance, its gray stone exterior giving the whole property a grim sort of feel. The lawn was huge, but barely visible in the fog, and a dark, shadowed grove of trees hunched on the horizon. There was a long, winding front drive and an imposing iron gate which was flanked by twin gargoyles who guarded it diligently.

The Knight Bus dropped them off with little fanfare, leaving the motley group to stare up at the imposing visage of Black Manor. The whole place gave off a menacing aura of intense gloom. Draco, oddly enough, felt right at home. 

Draco's musings were interrupted as Moody shifted his weight to his good leg and spit derisively at the sight, no doubt thinking of all the Dark artifacts stashed away in the house. They started up the drive, slipping between the iron gates quietly while the gargoyle's watched with twisted, menacing expressions. They didn't attack though and Sirius barely gave them a second glance as he shut the gate behind everyone.

Halfway through the courtyard, which was enclosed by the walls of the house itself, Draco realized something… strange was going on. There were chickens in the courtyard. Squawking, molting, fussing chickens and they were _everywhere_. The gray stones were littered with feathers, straw, and dung of all sorts. Not too far away, two goats were watching the newcomers approach from within a makeshift pen, chewing absently on what appeared to be half of an unraveling, ancient tapestry. A huge pig trundled by, brushing past Draco and almost knocking him off his feet. The Slytherin watched, morbidly fascinated, as it pushed it's way through a gaggle of geese and started stealing their food. He couldn't figure out for the life of him what the hell was going on.

"Sirius?" Harry asked, watching with wide eyes as a chicken walked right over his foot. 

"Oh didn't I mention it? The press has been bothering the Weasleys too so I invited them over. They had to bring their livestock along. The reporters kept kicking them around when Ron refused to be interviewed."

"Mmm." Was all Mad Eye Moody volunteered. He was too busy peering at one duck as if he expected it to transform into a Dark wizard at any second to reply properly.

"Oh great." Draco sighed. "Just when I thought I'd escaped them."

Harry elbowed him and the blond rolled his eyes, subsiding into a sulk. Sirius grinned at the exchange and continued talking. "Hermione's here too. She didn't want to miss out on the fun."

"Oh joy." Draco said flatly, ducking Harry's elbow this time. Ha, who said he didn't learn from his mistakes?

"You should be able to safely explore the whole house, just keep out of the attic. There's a whole boggle of boggarts up there. And there's a Querulous Pine in the backyard, so be careful if you decide to tromp around out there." Mad Eye Moody listened to Sirius' advice with narrowed eyes, but held his peace.

"A what pine?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed with confusion.

"A Querulous Pine. It's like a Whomping Willow, but a little less violent." Remus interjected. "It tends to drop pinecones on your head and it might try to trip you up with its roots. Harmless on the whole, but Sirius was right to warn you about it. Better safe than sorry."  


"Yeah. I've asked Dobby to help out around the house for the rest of the summer so just call for him if you need help with anything. The house isn't in very good shape, so don't be surprised if Molly pressgangs you into helping her clean. Oh! And there's an old house elf named Crabby hiding around here somewhere, but I wouldn't bother him if I were you. He's pretty senile. Not quite right in the head, if you know what I mean."

"Is that all?" Draco inquired, busy ducking around a cow and inside the entrance hall. Harry was right on his heels, swiftly followed by Sirius and Remus. Mad Eye Moody waved them ahead, thumping over to peer into a cistern. Draco couldn't hold back his sigh of relief at finally being out from under the ex-auror's constant scrutiny. There was a thin line between vigilance and paranoia; Moody had gone past it about twenty years ago by some margin.

Sirius frowned, staring around the room as if wracking his brain for some tidbit he'd forgotten. "I think so. I'll let you know if there's anything else you should watch out for."  


"Harry!"

"Oh, Harry!" Granger threw herself at Harry, hugging him tightly while the Weasel hurried down the stairs to join them. "I was so worried about you all when I heard about the attack on the Wizarding Wireless. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Draco was the one who was hurt, but he's healing up nicely."  


Hermione turned and for a split second she was about to hug him, but at then she seemed to realize exactly what she was doing and stepped back awkwardly, clearing her throat. "Ah. I hope your feeling better then." Draco backed up a step, just to be sure she wouldn't change her mind and watched her warily.

"Thank you. But I am feeling a little worn down. I don't suppose any of the bedrooms are fit for use?"

"Uh, up the stairs, second door on the left. You and Harry can share, if that's okay?" Sirius asked, winking at the Slytherin.

"Thanks. I think I'm going to have a lie down. Could you wake me for dinner?"

Remus smiled at him and made shooing motions with his hands. "Sure. Go on now, get some rest. You must be exhausted."  


"I am."

"I think I'll take a nap too." Harry announced out of the blue. He sounded suspiciously innocent and he didn't bother to meet anyone's eyes.

Ron grimaced. "Whatever you say, mate. Just watch out for Fred and George, they've been poking their noses into all the rooms. They almost got eaten by an animated armchair an hour ago when they went into one of the studies."

"We'll keep that in mind. Weasley, Granger." He gave them each a polite nod and started up the staircase, his hand grasping the banister as he climbed to help him keep his suddenly uncertain balance. Harry made his own farewells and followed quickly, literally running up the stairs. Draco didn't make it more than three steps in the room before the Gryffindor had the door locked and a heavy silencing spell set on the room.

"You… God, do you have any idea how you scared me? Don't ever do that to me again! I thought.. I thought you were dead, you prat!"   


"Er… sorry?" As if it was _Draco's_ fault Death Eater's had attacked him. Really, now.

But thankfully, Harry wasn't in the mood for conversation.

He stalked over to Draco and started tearing at his clothes, backing the blond into the big king sized bed as he undressed him. Draco, more than a little confused, rode it out. Harry's fingers fumbled with his buttons and his fly, tugging at his feet to free him from his socks and shoes, but before too long the Slytherin was naked. It only took a shove to send Draco reeling onto the bed, falling with an 'oomph' of expelled air as he collapsed onto his back. Harry undressed himself even more quickly, shucking his clothes so fast it was a wonder he didn't rip them in half.

And then Harry pounced, his chest pressed against Draco's as he tried to devour the other boy with his mouth. It was… intense was the only word Draco could think of. He could feel Harry's power thrumming through the room, barely suppressed and immensely volatile. Harry's eyes blazed and his hands trembled as he ran them up and down the Slytherin's slender body as if expecting to find some fatal wound at any moment. 

Draco could only lie still and accept the flurry of desperate caresses and kisses, letting them wash over him like a force of nature. It was tender and heartfelt, but there was an urgent need and a sharp hunger behind it that made his own throat choke up in empathy. Harry trailed wet kisses down Draco's chest and over his ribs, sometimes scraping at the pale skin with his teeth and other times letting his lips barely whisper over it. "Please, oh please…" Harry moaned into Draco's stomach, and the vibrations made Draco squirm. 

"Please what?" He cradled Harry's head in his hands, tilting his face up to better read his expression.

"Please, promise me. Promise me you won't die. I couldn't - it would be too much. I just - you can't! You can't die. Promise me!" And Harry's eyes were so green and wet and wide and they begged so eloquently that Draco couldn't find it within himself to refuse. He knew that he was as mortal as any other wizard and would normally never make such a foolish promise, but if it made Harry feel better…

"I promise, Harry. I'll do whatever is in my power to stay alive. And you'll do the same." It was an order, not a request, and Harry nodded immediately, too relieved to bother with any sort of protest at all. The Gryffindor bent his dark, ruffled head and mouthed along Draco's stomach to the knob of one hipbone, sucking hungrily at it's angles. The questions and worries whirling through Draco's head faded away under a sudden onslaught of lust.

And where on earth had Harry picked _that_ up? Tongues weren't meant to twist that way, or at least that's what he'd always thought before he'd seen his lover improvise _that _little move.

He gave himself up to Harry's all-consuming need. Draco, for once in his life, completely surrendered control and just let himself _feel_. He let himself feel Harry's hands smooth down his thighs, feel Harry knead his ass cheeks, feel Harry's hair brush lightly brush against his cock and feel the flex of his arms as he lifted them above his head and feel his tongue prod at his entrance and his cock slide right inside him and the clench of muscles around his cock and his teeth sink into his neck and the blood well on his tongue and his hands grasp his hips and his fingernails press into his arms and the fierce, steady pump of his cock and his lips bruise from his hard kisses and the tears smearing his chest and his choking sobs gust over his cheek and the tickling drip of wetness over his chin and sweat sheen his skin and the sheets sticking to his back and the feel of calloused hands encircling his cock even as he felt the hot, hard, slickness of a cock fill his fist and the vase in the corner shatter into a million pieces and the magic explode through the room and the ecstasy flood through him so strongly the only thing he could think was _Harry_, but it was all mixed up with the voice that said _Draco_ and there was one moment of pure and utter completion when everything in the universe was right and it felt so good it hurt and then - _and then _-

And then Draco was himself again and he could distinguish his own thoughts from Harry's, though the mind-blowing orgasm had dazed him so much his thoughts pretty much consisted of _wow_ and _my ass hurts_. 

"What." Harry croaked, his hair corkscrewing in every direction and absolutely drenched with sweat. Not that Draco's was much better, he was sure. "Th'hell. Was. That?" The last part of the sentence was blurted between breathless pants and both boys were lying side by side on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in shock. They'd lost themselves so completely in their lovemaking that more than two hours had slipped by.

The Slytherin was still too busy trying to figure out how to breathe to reply, but eventually his heart stopped battering at his ribcage and his lungs started working again. It only took two tries for him to force his tongue to work properly. "Wizarding sex. It's like that sometimes. Mostly when there's a lot of emotion involved. Doesn't happen often though."  


"Holy fuck." Harry swore fervently, letting his head flop to the side so he could squint at Draco nearsightedly. His glasses were somewhere in the vicinity of the far wall and smashed all to hell too. Draco wasn't quite sure when he'd torn them off Harry's face and hurled them across the room, but there was no doubt the indent in the wall and the sprinkling of glass under it were all his fault.

Draco's eyelids were drooping and he instinctively curled into Harry's warmth, snuggling in against him when Harry slipped his arm around the Slytherin and tugged him closer. Harry struggled to pull the duvet over them both and once he did the incredible warmth and comfort of the situation made Draco sigh so very, very deeply he felt like he was sighing from the bottom of his soul. 

He had almost fallen asleep when some niggling thought prodded at him, pulling him out of his exhausted stupor. "Harry." The Gryffindor nuzzled Draco's hair sleepily, muttering to himself softly and quite incomprehensibly. "_Harry_." Draco insisted with more force.

"Wha? What is it?" Harry asked, yawning. "Nap now. Talk later."  


"Talk now. I need to know what happened with Lucius. How'd you get me out of there?"  


That managed to wake him up a little. Harry blinked a few times as he gathered his scrambled thoughts before replying. "Oh. He helped me and Ron take down the other Death Eaters and then had us Obliviate them and knock them unconscious. Draco…" Draco braced himself for bad news. That serious, pained tone of voice never boded well. When Harry continued, his voice was gentle and sympathetic. "Lucius made me Obliviate him too. And he wanted me to tell you that next time, he won't help."

"I'm surprised he decided to intervene in the first place, frankly." Draco said tiredly, sitting up so that the duvet fell to his waist. He braced his back against the headboard and rubbed at his eyes. Merlin, he was so, so tired. Right down to the marrow of his bones. The injuries, then the trip over on the Knight Bus with Moody's freaky eye following his every move the whole time, the incredible sex, and now hearing about Lucius - it was all a little too much to handle in so short a time.

"You need to rest and so do I. Come on, Draco. I've got you." Harry said softly, pulling him down to lie against his side. 

"That's what you said before. On the flight to St. Mungo's." The blond said quietly, tucking his head under Harry's chin. The Gryffindor turned to hold him, pressing a kiss to his temple and then to the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't think you'd remember that. But I meant it.

Draco had to bite his lip to prevent himself from doing something stupid and girly, like professing love or crying. "Enough with the sap."

"And on to the nap? Get it, it rhymes? Sap, nap? Never mind."

"You think you're so clever. But in actuality Harry, your attempts at humor are really very sad."

"Obviously, you're feeling better if you can tease me."

Draco grinned into Harry's shoulder. "No. I could probably do that on my deathbed." However, morbid humor was apparently not Harry's cup of tea. The Gryffindor's arms tightened around Draco's slender form, crushing him to his chest. "Hey! I do need to breathe you know. I'm not going anywhere Harry. I promised, remember?"

"I know." Harry mumbled into his hair, still not relaxing his grip. "I actually thought the Killing Curse had gotten you. It was just a moment, but… I never want to feel that way again."

"Harry." Draco said quite seriously, pulling back so that the other boy was forced to meet his eyes. "You know I don't believe in love, right? But in all honesty, I've never seen it before so I probably wouldn't recognize it if it came up and bit me on the arse. But if there is such a thing as love and if I am capable of it, I'd love you. I'd be head over heels in love with you." Then Draco abruptly realized _exactly_ what he had just said. "And here I thought I'd get away with skipping the mushy confession." Draco could only hope none of his fellow Slytherins ever found out about it. His reputation would be forever ruined. 

And the little voice inside his head that said Harry would be worth it was going to be squashed _beyond all recognition _if it piped up one more time!

Harry smiled and it was such a sweet, incredibly blissful smile Draco found himself smiling shyly back, despite his resolve not to. Draco just couldn't stop himself, not when Harry's eyes were shining like that and he looked like he'd gotten everything he'd ever wanted all at once. "I know. I've always known. And I love you too, Draco." Oh, yeah. There was a shocker. 

"Have I ever told you that you're predictable?"

That got him a pinch on his bum and, oddly enough, a fond look. "Sod off, wanker."

"You wish." Draco shot back.

"Oh, go to bed." They settled down together, cuddling closely, and Draco found himself smirking.

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Arse-licker."

For once Harry was too tired to blush. "God, you suck."  


"I swallow too."

"Draco!" _Ha, ha!_ Draco crowed in triumph silently. _Got 'em. _Harry's cheeks were cherry red with embarrassment and arousal, just the way Draco liked them. Chuckling to himself, Draco settled his head on Harry's shoulder. Moments later he slipped into unconsciousness with a smile tugging at his lips.

He might have been Harry Potter's bitch, but he still had his zingy one-liners.

To Be Continued…

Extra Author's Note: Okay, the OoTP AU thing is confusing, so I thought I'd elaborate a little on my pre-OoTP version. Harry's fifth year went something like this; The DADA professor was the real Mad Eye Moody (as previously mentioned above). Harry took Cedric's death much more gracefully than Canon!Harry did, though he did get in a fight or two with Ron to prevent him from bottling up all his emotions and he flew on his Firebolt a lot. Hermione spent the year mothering Harry and driving him to distraction without realizing it (which was briefly referred to in DM&UF) and the rest of the school pretty much left Harry to his own devices so he could grieve properly. The Ministry spent the year denying Voldemort's return, so there was some speculation as to Harry's sanity and the situation with Cedric, though no one was dense enough to actually confront Harry about the rumors. Except for Draco and he got bitch slapped for it. No, not really, but he did get punched in the nose by Harry. There was, of course, the typical Life Threatening Event (of your choice, because I'm too lazy to invent one at the moment) and Harry managed to narrowly avoid certain death and probably saved Neville Longbottom's life in the bargain. However, Draco _did _drop his wineglass during their Owls. So, that's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome. 


	18. Hello to the Hogwarts Express

Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: Thanks to the lovely Wonapalei for the beta! And thanks to everyone who left a review! Happy reading.

Warnings/Summary: Possibly language and the brief mention of mature situations. It's a pretty tame chapter.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This will be slash (eventually). Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

It was early in the morning; the sun was still below the horizon, and the air was crisp and cold. Draco was toasty warm, however, tucked into bed next to Harry as he was. The Gryffindor gave off more heat than a fire imp, not that Draco minded. It was nice to have his own personal bed-warmer. Draco sighed, staringat the ceiling.

The summer was almost over. In only a few days he would be on the Hogwarts Express, headed for school. Draco was looking forward to his last year at Hogwarts, but he was also reluctant to see the summer finally come to an end. It had been unexpectedly peaceful after the Puddlemere Massacre, or as peaceful as life with the Weasleys and two Marauders could be. Everyone had been grateful for the respite, especially Harry. And if anyone deserved a little peace and quiet, it was the Boy Who Lived.

Not that the summer had been boring. Far from it! Harry and Sirius had spent countless hours working on Harry's motorcycle and ruining their clothes. Draco thought the grease monkey look was actually rather fetching on Harry, though that wasn't enough to convince him to actually go near Harry when the other boy was covered with sweat, grime, and grease. Hermione had spent the summer practically living in the Black library to get a head start on studying for her NEWTs and the Weasel spent most of his time exploring the Manor with Fred and George.

With Dobby's help, Draco had been able to move his makeshift laboratory from the cottage's shed to the Manor. They had set it up in an abandoned wing of the Manor so the strange sounds and smells caused by his experiments wouldn't bother anyone. His research had gone well, though he had experienced a minor setback when Fred and George had dropped by to "help" him. Draco did not appreciate their supposed help in the least. He followed a strict scientific method when conducting his experiments, and it didn't include tossing random items into the cauldron just to see what would happen.

The twins had not only blown up his cauldron, but they had completely soaked themselves and Draco in a potion meant to flavor things as various desserts. That had earned Fred and George a lifelong ban from Draco's laboratory, as well as donkey ears from a well-placed Jackass Hex. At least the whole incident meant _someone_ enjoyed Draco's stint as an Every Flavor Slytherin.

Of course, Harry and Draco had spent their nights having as much sex as humanly possible. Thank Merlin for silencing charms! They were teenage boys after all, and not even the threat of being discovered by the Weasleys could make them keep their hands to themselves in the privacy of their own room. Molly Weasley had soon come to expect that the two boys would be late to dinner most nights, having decided that they spent their time together having heart-to-heart talks. Draco was endlessly amused by her naïveté. Whenever she told Harry how proud she was of him for discussing his feelings with a friend, he couldn't help but snicker. More than once, Sirius had had to leave the room in order to laugh out loud after hearing one of Molly's speeches about how it was so nice thatHarry had finally found himself a confidant. Not that Draco could blame him.

All in all, the summer had been quite fun. It had also been unexpectedly educational.

For instance, Draco had learned how to slide down a banister. The manor had long, winding staircases, and it was absolutely thrilling to see who could slide down the fastest or fly the farthest off the end of the banister. 

Draco had also learned that he loved kissing Harry for hours on end, even if it didn't actually lead anywhere. He had never realized just how many kinds of kisses there were. Sleepy kisses, friendly kisses, playful kisses, passionate kisses…. The thought of just how much time they'd spent with their faces glued together made Draco smile.

A sound from downstairs made Harry shift drowsily and turn over to bury his face in Draco's side before drifting back to sleep. 

Draco wasn't surprised the Gryffindor was so tired. They had stayed up quite late last night, and Harry seemed to need more sleep than the Slytherin. Each night, right after they had sex and right before they went to sleep, the two of them talked quietly together about anything and everything. At first, Harry had only done it to assuage the guilt he felt at spending all his time getting off with Draco when Mrs. Weasley thought he was talking about his problems, but eventually it became a part of their routine. It was nice, Draco had discovered, to be able to share things with someone else, and he knew Harry felt the same way. He knew Harry still kept a part of himself back; he avoided certain subjects religiously, but Draco was happy with whatever Harry chose to share with him. The harsher aspects of Harry's life had lefttheir mark. Draco could understand that; after the Puddlemere Massacre, the Slytherin found himself keeping his wand within reach at all times.

Draco had learned a few more things, mostly from trial and error. 

Such as the fact that he was a terrible cook. Draco was practically a potions genius, but he was a complete terror in the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley had forbidden him to enter the kitchen on pain of death by her big wooden spoon after he had accidentally set the stove on fire. Perhaps it was just that he had no interest in cooking, but he really was awful at it. Draco hadn't even known water _could_ burn. It was a good thing house elves existed, or Draco would probably starve to death.

Draco had also discovered that Harry's hair was truly uncontrollable. He had dedicated a whole afternoon to taming the Gryffindor's wayward locks, but to no avail. He'd only broken his comb and wasted two whole tubes of hair gel. 

Of course, the Weasley twins had learned something too during the summer. They had learned the hard way that apparating into someone's bedroom without warning meant they might get an eyeful of the room's occupants shagging wildly. At the time, Draco had been fucking Harry up against the wall, but he had been so startled at the twins' appearance that he'd lost his balance and sent them both toppling to the ground. Fred and George had kept quiet about the incident, though Draco suspected that was only because Harry was somehow blackmailing them into it.

Despite the Amazing Apparating Weasley Brothers and the burning kitchen, Draco had enjoyed his summer vacation. But he had a feeling that he was going to enjoy his last year of school even more.

*

The highlight of his last week of freedom had been when he had received an owl from Hogwarts. Draco had been surprised when the owl had swooped into the kitchen and landed by his plate with a message tied firmly to its leg. He and Harry had already gotten their school supplies earlier in the summer, when Pansy had taken them shopping, so it wasn't as if it was his Hogwarts letter. Curious, Draco had taken the letter and ripped it open hurriedly. Inside the usual thick, cream-colored envelope he had found a shiny Head Boy badge with an enameled green serpent crest.

At first, Draco had been stunned and then, as soon as realization had washed over him, positively ecstatic. And if Harry was less than thrilled that he hadn't gotten the position, Draco never knew it. The Gryffindor was every bit as pleased for Draco as he would have been for himself, though Ron's grudge was probably big enough for the both of them. Hell, it was probably big enough for all Gryffindor House.

To absolutely no one's surprise, Hermione received an owl only minutes later with an identical letter carrying her Head Girl badge. She had seemed almost relieved that the Head Boy was a fellow scholar (even if he was a Slytherin) instead of Harry, who was undoubtedly intelligent, but not exactly predisposed to making complicated charts or carefully planning events. Draco Malfoy was actually quite organized, because a truly sly Slytherin knew better than to tangle himself up in his own lies, and that often required a high degree of organization. Harry, on the other hand, was more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants-and-hope-you-survive sort of guy.

When Harry had first received his prefect badge their fifth year, Draco had automatically started ranting about Dumbledore's favoritism and fervently deriding the Boy Who Lived's rather sorry academic record. Of course, that was before Draco realized how capable and level-headed Harry was in times of crisis. Harry actually made a rather decent prefect too, though his reputation tended to intimidate the first-years. Not even the older Slytherins dared to challenge his authority when Harry was doing his prefect duties. However, Draco couldn't help but be smug that it was he, and not Harry, who had become Head Boy. He truly hadn't expected it, but he certainly was grateful that he had gotten the position.

Harry would probably be spending all his time in Draco's private room anyway, so what was the difference in the end? Other than the fact that Draco would be the one polishing the Head Boy badge every night and flashing it in Weasley's face just for the hell of it, of course.

He was doing just that when he finally stepped onto Platform 9 ¾. Harry rolled his eyes at Draco's antics, but he didn't say anything about his boyfriend's gloating. The Slytherin realized his behavior wasn't exactly attractive, but at this point he really didn't care. He was _Head Boy_! And having grown up a spoilt only child it was his right - no, his _duty_ - to lord it over those less fortunate than him. When Harry exchanged long-suffering looks with Granger, Draco simply ignored them both.

Harry was levitating both their trunks towards the Hogwarts Express, since he**, **now seventeen**,** was able to use magic at his own discretion and Draco was too busy puffing up his chest and strutting around to bother. The Slytherin found himself searching for the familiar faces of his friends, and he grinned when he saw Goyle's wide shoulders and Blaise's head of dark curls.

He sneaked up quietly behind them**, **the better to eavesdrop on their conversation. "…late again?" 

"Of course he'll be late, Goyle. Draco is never on time. It simply wouldn't be fashionable." Blaise drawled the last bit in a rather good imitation of Draco, even going so far as to curl his lip disdainfully and cock one eyebrow.

"Perhaps you should be a bit more careful of whom you mock, Zabini. You ought to show some respect for your Head Boy." Startled, his friends jumped in surprise and looked briefly abashed.

"Head Boy!" Goyle exclaimed, turning around. 

Blaise whooped with delight. "I can't believe it!"

"Well, regardless of whether you believe it or not, I am Head Boy this year. Which means that our ASH meeting will be postponed until after Granger and I have dealt with the prefects."

"Who cares! Slytherin might actually have a chance at the House Cup this year! Wait 'til I tell Pansy and Vince."

Their conversation was interrupted as Harry joined them. "Draco, hurry up! Hermione's going to kill us if we don't get to the prefects' compartment on time."

Draco turned to offer Harry a smile. Blaise smirked, fluttering his eyelashes and cooing appreciatively. "Well, well. What do we have here. Is it Draco's ickle boyfriend?"

"Stuff it, Zabini, before I stuff it for you."

"You wish, Malfoy."

Harry was watching the exchange warily. "Um… Draco?"

"Yes, yes, I know. Granger's going spare. You two, behave yourselves. I'll come by our usual compartment in about half an hour." He said imperiously, turning so his Head Boy badge caught the light _just_ so.

"Sure thing, Draco," Greg grunted, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing Harry suspiciously. Harry eyed him right back, though of course he had to tilt his head back to do it.

Blaise was making kissy faces at them both, his lips puckered up in a ridiculous manner. Draco turned round, letting his school robes flare out behind him dramatically, and stalked off without another word. He paused to shoot Blaise a two-fingered salute and a sneer right before he climbed on the Hogwarts Express. Blaise and Greg laughed at him. Or perhaps they were simply laughing at Harry's put-upon expression. 

It didn't matter, though. Not when they were so close to Hogwarts… and home.

To be Continued

Comments and constructive criticism are more than welcome.


End file.
